


They/Them

by KarkatHorns



Series: Timeless Interactions [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Agender Frisk, Angst, Child Abandonment, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Frisk and everybody else is new to sign langauge, Frisk had shitty parents, Frisk is adopted by Toriel, Goatmom, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Nightmares, Nonbinary Frisk, Nonbinary Monster Kid, Nonbinary Napstablook, Other, Papyrus is smarter than people think, Past Child Abuse, Sans has Narcolepsy, Selectively Mute Frisk, dunkle sans - Freeform, nonbinary chara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5420732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarkatHorns/pseuds/KarkatHorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk is having nightmares and anxiety relating to their past before the fall. Of course, they do not want to tell anybody, or bring it up. Their new monster family can tell that something is a bit off about them sometimes, and know to avoid certain topics. Of course, Frisk can't just keep running from their past forever. Sans and Toriel can only do so much for their new child, and Asgore can only offer so much tea. Everyone tries to be supportive of each other. Their family may not be perfect by any means, but that won't stop everybody from being together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flashbacks, No Take Backs

**Author's Note:**

> A a quick note, Frisk's biological mom is Filipino, and their biological dad is Japanese. They used to/still live in America. A lot of the questions regarding Frisk's family will be answered throughout the story. The beginning section of the story is a flashback.

A loud, booming yell wakes them from their dreams. 

 

"̧̹̜̯ͩ̉ͨ̆̽̕ͅ[̩͆ͧ£̨̲͕̪͕̭̓ͦ̌͛¢̴̧̥͉͇̰̣͇̣͆͊̈ͬ̃͑€͚͊¥̤̞̹̣͐͢÷͙̫͋̓̃̽̌̐×̵̡̮̣͖͈̜̋ͩ͂̒͌͐̒ͪ͡]̧̟̎͒͋ͦ̏͠!͈̼̖͚̱̦̗̾̔ͤ̍̇͂ͯ́̚"̢͕̱͇̰̙̘̯ͨ̐͌ͦͪ̋͂ ̷̖̰̂̌ͦ̽̽̈̾ͥ͟͞

The child wakes up with a jolt, throwing off their blankets and getting straight out of bed. Their head rings, their body aches, and their heart is beating so quickly out of their chest that they are surprised it isn't going to burst right out of their throat.

"Don't make me say your name twice!" The voice booms again, in Tagalog. The human child's lungs hurt from their sudden intake of cold air. They aren't even being spoken to in English, so surely that must mean they've done something very bad. If they linger around, their punishment could be even worse than it is already. The child jumps off their bed only a few seconds after waking up, adrenaline and anxiety running through their veins. They know what that loud, booming voice means. It means they are in deep trouble, and that that means that if it's bad enough, they are going to get the belt.    


They  shudder at the thought of it, a flash of cold running down their back as they run down the stairs to greet their angry mother. The belt is something they wouldn't wish on any kid. A lot of parents tie it around their hand and hit their kids with the leather, but this child has always instead gotten the metal end of it. It sometimes cuts into them and leaves harsh bruises on their back and their arms, where they cover their  head. One time they had moved the mattress a little and had hidden in a bundle of blankets, so it hadn't hurt so horribly, but that had only worked once. They don't always completely know what they have done wrong, but they're convinced that kids only get hit for doing the worst things imaginable. They wouldn't be hit for doing nothing. Their mother isn't a liar, right?

They make their way out of their room and gently close the door. They don't want to get into even more trouble because they decided to slam a door or have any sort of fit. They know where slamming doors will get them. They try to hide using their short height, peaking out from behind the thick wooden poles along the side of the stairs to see if their mother is holding anything. Knowing what she is holding will change the situation, sometimes for the better, but sometimes for the worse. Today, she is holding nothing in her hands. That isn't always reassuring. Sometimes she isn't holding anything, but she really has something nearby or hidden. Sometimes she takes a few moments to go and get something, depending on the child's reaction to what she has to say. Right now, she looks bigger and angry, and the child moves over to her slowly, heart still beating ever so wildly in their chest after getting a quite _literal_ rude awakening.

"You didn't do the dishes last night," she starts. She sounds cold and angry. Any other six-year-old would look quite bewildered, or confused. However, this particular child stays silent, lowering their head. The mother continues to speak.

"You didn't do the dishes last night. Because you didn't do the dishes, I had to do them myself this morning before I left for work. Because I had to do the dishes, I wasn't able to make my breakfast on time. Because I wasn't able to make my breakfast on time, I had to leave to go to work and didn't  eat anything. I still had to make my lunch, or else I would have nothing to eat, so I had to stop by a fast food place on my way to work. Because I needed to stop to get some food, I was almost late for a very important meeting. Is that what you want, for me to be late?" 

The child shakes their head anxiously, feeling horrible for their mistake despite the fact that they were quite sure they did, in fact, do the dishes last night. Perhaps they went to sleep a bit earlier, or they did not double check. Either way, the child blames themselves for their supposed mistake, feeling horrible for causing their beloved family member so much inconvenience. It's their job to finish all of their chores. Their mother doesn't thank them when they do anything right, so their job is not to do anything wrong. The less they are noticed, the better the outcome for them. The less mistakes they make, the easier it will be.     


Their mother continues to speak.

"If you keep doing this, one day I am going to be really late to work. If I'm really late for work - _If I'm really late_ \- they are going to fire me. Do you know what that _means_? Do you? "

The child doesn't reply, looking on at their parent, their heart still beating quickly, but not quite as horribly fast. They are trying to calm their breathing as much as possible. They don't want to bother their mother by breathing loudly and making her say something about it. They are sure to keep their eyes at their usual squint. When they get in trouble, they get anxious and start to blink a lot. They got hit for that once.  They don't think they are  in immediate danger right now, but the risk is still there.

"Answer me," strong words demanded, in a harsh, accented English.  


"...You'll get fired," a small voice replies, also in English. It's choked out, as if by a voice that isn't completely able to repeat any kind of proper language. Their underused voice is tired and raspy, and not nearly as sweet as another six-year-old's voice would be. Their reply appears to have been satisfactory, for now.

"That's right!! I'll get fired,  [̦̘̫̙͓̼ͬ̒͊ͅ@̩̞̯̳̤̞̥ͩ͂͆͊̓;̝ͨ̓̎͋̊ͯ̚͜ͅ$̸͖̱̙̳̥̈̈́͌̕͘(̫͕̠̙͕ͨͥ͘@̵̡̰͗͋̉́̊̚͠-̻̭͍̜͇̮̇͐&̥̮̹̰̫͈̣̊̄ͭͫ̉ͬ́͟]͍͍̖̄̍ͭ͒ . I'll lose my job. Then, with your papa gone, we will need to find a new job. _A job that won't give us enough money._ And then we will both be hungry every day. Nobody will hire a woman like me at my age. And _forget_ making breakfast, we won't have enough food to eat anything at all. We will need to sell all of those dishes that you take for granted in order to get enough money for us to have some food. Do you understand me?"

The child  nods quickly, swallowing a lump in their throat. They hope the sound from it wasn't audible. They feel a horrible mixture of guilt and fear. They don't want to be the reason that anybody else is being  troubled or inconvenienced. Especially their mother. Aren't kids supposed to love their parents?

"Good. Then, go clean up the kitchen. You know what you have to do. Don't let me catch the dishes in the sink again."

The child runs off.

\---

it's a beautiful day outside .

birds are singing,  flowers are blooming... 

on days like these, kids like you

should be getting ready for school.

Frisk wakes up with a start, sitting up on their bed and taking a look at their surroundings. A horribly loud and irritating sound booms from their phone.  They have already forgotten most of their dream, but they remember it being pretty unsettling in some way. There is a line of sweat on their forehead, and their heart is still beating quite fast. Their eyes feel sticky and gross, so they take a moment to wipe the sand out of them before they fumble around to hit their alarm. Their alarms often have to be  ridiculously loud and obnoxious for them to wake up in the morning. Loud sounds are the only things that will wake them from their deep sleep in general, though they honestly hate it when any given noise is above a certain volume. Hey, if it wakes them up in the morning, they aren't going to make a fuss about it. They might love their new family, but they are still afraid of what might happen if they wake up really late. It was something that they were never allowed to do in the past without consequences. And so, they keep their alarm as loud as possible, even when the noise scares the wits out of them, some days.

Frisk stretches out their back and lays back on their bed. They definitely are not a morning person. It’s 5:40 am, which leaves them with 20 minutes to sit down and stare at the ceiling until they feel almost awake enough to go get breakfast. It's a ritual, really. The royal child wipes at their eyes, trying to remember their dream, and why it had felt so unsettling. They ponder over whether or not it was a nightmare, a weird dream, or even a nice dream that somehow left them feeling upset. With their horrible memory, it's hard to tell, so they have made a game out of it. This morning, they can recognize that it was probably just something upsetting. Likely, it was just a nightmare again. Their eyes hurt from the rubbing, so for a while they keep their eyes completely closed instead of keeping their usual squint. 

They manage to get up around 6:08  AM , getting dressed very quickly before heading downstairs. They're kind of proud of how quickly they dress. They have a daily habit that gets on Toriel's nerves a little. Instead of changing into pajamas, they always tend to just wear the clothes they had on the day before. They never had pajamas of any sort in their old home, and they wore the same clothes during their whole stay underground, so it was never something they needed to do in the past. It's a bit weird, actually, trying to remember to get dressed so often every day. Pajamas, a new outfit every day, and making sure that they're wearing things that are clean, and not clothes that they left on the floor. Toriel has also been getting them into the habit of showering much more often – a luxury they never had in the past. Nobody ever told them that they had to shower, but they were aware that if they smelled particularly bad, they had to shower so that they wouldn't get in trouble.  


And so, a well-cleaned and freshly-dressed Frisk makes their way downstairs and over to the kitchen, where Toriel started making some snail omelets  for breakfast. While any other human child might be disgusted by the idea of eating snails or insects, Frisk has always been open to it. They eat interesting food. That's all. It's nice to try new things, and different cultures have different dishes. Also, Toriel is sure to cook more 'normal' food for when Frisk has their friends over. Frisk loves getting breakfast every morning. At first, it surprised them, getting three meals a day along with everything else, but now  they're always excited for whatever their  Goatmom has to offer. There's no reason to compare things to how they were before the fall. Things are _amazing_ in the present, where they can ignore the past for as long as they want. It's only been roughly two months up on the surface, but it feels as if  Toriel and them have been living together for years.   To be fair, two months is a very long amount of time for a child like Frisk, who is only about seven and a half.  


Frisk waves excitedly, and Toriel laughs gently to give them a tender pat on the head. Frisk grins, looking over to the food. The Queen fixes a plate for their heir, nudging them to go over to their seat so that they can eat breakfast together. 

"Did you sleep well, my child?" Toriel asks. Frisk replies with a nod, despite it not being true. They don't realize they have lied at all, excited for the good meal that they are going to have before they make their way to school. Toriel smiles, eating along with Frisk. Of course, Toriel's plate has a lot more snails on it. Frisk has a cup of chocolate milk along with their  omelet, which they eagerly gulp down. It's like eating at a  restaurant every morning for them. A foreign one,  sure, but that doesn't stop it from being good.

After their breakfast, Toriel helps them gather their things into the car. Toriel works as the school principal, as well as an English Teacher. The school teaches monster children and human children alike- being a part of the first school in the nation to do so, along with the first in the world having the first monster teachers and staff. Frisk is happy to attend, though the work can be a bit difficult at times. They buckle themselves in, while Toriel turns on the heater to fight the cold of the season's snow. There was barely two inches on the ground, but soon enough, everything will probably be covered in the stuff,   


Frisk smiles all the way to school.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of trying to stop any confusion, I'll explain why certain things in the flashbacks are crossed out. In this fic, Frisk's mother used to address them by their birth name and birth pronouns. I will never give away their birth name or gender at all in this fic. I won't make it clear if they are biologically male, female, intersex, or anything else. Whenever their old name or pronouns are used, it will be crossed out and blurry. The flashbacks go at a quicker pace than the actual story! That is intentional. Frisk has a pretty good memory, sure, but not all of the details will be there.  
> \---  
> Update 12/28/15  
> If you got a notification that I just posted chapter 1, even though this fic has been out for a while, that is because I finally fixed up some of it. Chapter 1 was a bit shorter, had absolutely zero proofreading, and just felt a little awkward. It also didn't explain most of what I thought it did. I would recommend rereading this chapter, if you've been bookmarked for a while!


	2. Walls That Close In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha the angst slowly develops,, very slowly,,,
> 
> *at a snail's pace.

School was somewhere between fun and boring. Surprisingly, Frisk is one of those few kids that finds some fun in math. Math is a bit different to them than other classes. They think of it like this: every problem they get from their teacher is a different kind of puzzle. There are different kind of puzzles, and every year, they get harder. Of course, nobody, human or monster, will force somebody into playing a puzzle without explaining the rules first. Every time the puzzle gets a little bit harder, there are more rules added to it. There are many different ways to solve the same puzzle, and some ways seem easier than others. In the end, the puzzle is solved! Sometimes, the puzzle is a bit challenging, and somebody may think they solved it right, but missed something. But, whoever saw them try to solve the puzzle will give them credit anyway for trying, and give them points based off of what they did right. Thinking of it that way, Math is a pretty fun class! Even if they don't get all of the problems right, and sometimes they mess up, it doesn't stop the class from being a fun experience.

English, on the other hand, is a bit harder. Frisk likes it the best when they are reading books and have to write down what they liked the most about the book. Reading has been a little weird at first, seeing as Frisk was very slow when they started, but now Frisk is starting to adjust to reading at a quicker pace. It might take them a long time to get through a book, but they still enjoy it. On the other hand, they really don't like writing things down. They have essays they are learning how to write for school, and they find it really hard. Making up stories is easy, but it's hard putting it down into the right words. It's also really hard writing about articles that they find in newspapers. "Current Events" can be really cool, but a lot of the things that they read are very confusing. They love the articles about monsters coming back to the overworld, but sometimes the articles have very big words that they can't understand.

Gym is a fun experience.  Undyne is the Gym Teacher for the school, though she continues her job as the Royal Guard  afterwards. While the Royal Guard no longer hunts humans, they exist to protect the King, the Queen, and the new Royal Child. While  Asgore and  Toriel live  separately , Undyne still makes an effort to protect them and look out for any threats against them. Toriel is the Principal of a school and  Asgore is often in public, gardening. They need to be protected from any threats or humans that may want to cause them any harm. The dogs are still on the Royal Guard as well, and they stand guard over the school and  Asgore's New  New Home. They are kind towards strangers and love being pet, but most people forget the undying loyalty and protection that dogs feel towards those they love. The Royal Family continues to be in safe hands.

Papyrus still isn't a Royal Guard. He is much too soft, and he would be willing to give anybody a second chance no matter what their crime is. He has a soft heart, and he is easily touched. It might cause a risk for the Royal Family if somebody were to take advantage of his trust. He is smart, of course, and he would never put them in danger on purpose, but he is too soft to want to hurt anybody. On the other hand, he has proven to be strong in an unexpected way.  Papyrus is really strong, without a doubt. His attacks can be completely overwhelming and amazingly fierce if he wants them to be. His blue  attacks can be really tricky when used correctly, easily throwing people off guard. That is to say, he would never want to overwhelm his opponent by being unfair in any way. He would never attack somebody with  1HP left, and he is always completely aware of his surroundings. He is observant, knowing a person's limits and how to fight without causing anybody any real harm. He is smart, also understanding a person's mental  limit s along with their physical limits. Papyrus is clever, but he is often underestimated due to his  kindness and unending faith in others. He has been working security for the school,  separating fights and calming down students.

Sans never really got a job. After making it up to the surface, he has been more exhausted, if anything else. It's a lot of work, looking after everyone. Frisk isn't really sure what kind of work he really does, but they aren't dumb. They know he has been up to something, probably science related. Sans has been reading weird books with long names, making an effort to pretend he hasn’t been doing anything at all. He has been hiding something, but nobody has dared to ask him. If he is covering up something, he has a reason for it. The only reason Frisk ever noticed was because Papyrus had picked up on it, and told them in his own way to encourage Sans to take it easy. Papyrus has a way of knowing what people need, as well as understanding a respectable distance that people need to be held at. 

Frisk sips on a  juicebox that they saved from lunch. They eat at a table with Monster Kid from  Snowdin. MK and Frisk often enjoy chatting to each other. Frisk and MK have been making up an interest in sign language as well- something Frisk had always wanted to learn due to their selective muteness. They never really had a chance to learn it before the fall. MK loves learning the signs as well, though they can't do much of anything with their lack of arms. They loves being able to understand Frisk, though, so they are happy to learn a new way to talk to their good friend. It also helps when Frisk feels particularly uncomfortable and non-vocal , and MK can simply explain what Frisk is saying out loud without Frisk ever having to say the words. They've both learned a lot, but neither of them are particularly fluent in it yet. Frisk has also been teaching their monster friends some signs, and everybody has been very eager to learn, too.  Undyne and Alphys have been learning together at their new shared home. Sans and Papyrus already knew a lot of  signing beforehand, but it was in a form of sign language that  apparently only  skeletons could understand. Learning another form of sign  language wasn't that hard for them because of it, though. Toriel has been trying to learn the best she can, but she has just been rather busy. In any case, everybody is putting forth an effort to learn, and it has been making Frisk very happy.

After school, Frisk waits outside for Sans to come and pick them up. They have been feeling a little lightheaded for about an hour now, but they have chosen to ignore it for the most part. Sometimes they just feel lightheaded or dizzy, and sometimes their hands tremble. They aren't really sure why any of it happens, but they usually ignore it and it goes away on its own over time. They hate it when they feel dizzy, though, because it usually leads to them getting  nauseous and  lo sing their appetite. The lightheaded feeling will probably ease up because they had something to drink, hopefully. Though they don't have any problems with their sugar, they have noticed that it helps a little. They look up at the pure white sky, wondering when it is going to snow again.   The air is crisp and dry, for now.  


_ The idea of playing with your friends in the snow fills you with  determination. _

Frisk pulls their sweater up over their shoulder a bit. Toriel had taken them shopping after reaching the surface, allowing them to pick out whatever clothes they really liked. They went with the monster tradition of wearing striped clothing, choosing tons of different sweaters. They had gone for the ones that were much too big for them, but they insisted on it when Toriel questioned them. They have always gotten clothes a little too big, so that they could grow into them and not waste as much money. Of course, they didn't vocalize that to Toriel, so Toriel never got a chance to explain that money isn't really an issue for them. Heck, monsters use gold instead of money. None of the monsters that came to the surface have found themselves lacking in the cash department. Another thing Frisk bought were a lot of jeans and overalls. Frisk loves wearing overalls underneath their sweaters. They like the feeling of them, and they just seem to fit pretty well. Sometimes their gross bandage sticks out from the neck of their oversized sweaters, but they've been really good about redirecting any questions about it. It's so subtle that only  monsters from the underground have ever really gotten a good look at it through Frisk's ripped up clothes from the time.

Toriel had questioned them about the bandage a few days after making it to the surface. She was worried about the injury there, and what the bandage was used for. Frisk had never made any reference to it, and Toriel never got a chance to see it or attempt any of her healing magic on it. It was clear that Frisk had used the bandage over and over more than just once, and that it  definitely wasn't sterile anymore. It was gross and sticky, almost like a second skin with how tightly it needed to be wrapped in order to stay in place. However, Frisk simply gave Toriel a grin and a hug, before running off to go watch some TV. Toriel had been too startled by the reaction to ask any more questions, knowing that the fallen child didn't want to acknowledge the bandage in the first place. Later on that night, Toriel had left a roll of clean bandages in Frisk's room for them to apply themselves, if they wanted to. If they didn't trust Toriel for the task, she wouldn't try to force them into something that might ruin their trust. Toriel believes that Frisk will open up if they give them enough time for it. Frisk was glad for the change to apply a new bandage themselves, and they were grateful that Toriel let them do it in the privacy of their own room.

Sans finally arrives on his motorbike, revving up his engine as he arrives. Frisk signs the name that they have chosen for him, the sign for dunk along with an 'S', meant to abbreviate "Dunkle Sans". Sans grins and holds out the second helmet, which Frisk happily takes as they hop in the rear seat. 

"Hey kiddo. Have a great day at school?" Sans asks, his voice full of humor. Frisk nods their head up and down enthusiastically, but pauses when the gesture makes their lightheadedness a little worse. They hide it by leaning against Sans's shoulder and giving him a big hug. Sans is a little startled by the gesture, but doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. He doesn't pick up on anything strange. Frisk signs the word for 'home' and he nods, driving off into the distance. 

While they leave, gentle snowflakes begin to fall from the sky.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not used to writing such small chapters. Heck, I haven't written any fanfics for like two years. It's time to get back in the game. I feel like a Grandpapi. Grandmami? Grandmapi. There we go.
> 
> If I accidentally use the wrong prounouns for any characters in this fic, message askmercifulfrisk on tumblr. It's definitely a spelling error and was not intentional, and I will fix it right away.


	3. We All Like Looking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some off-screen snowball fights and family bonding. Hooray. It isn't getting sad yet, but don't expect it to stay that way for long.

 

Thanks to Sans's shortcuts, they both make it home in roughly two minutes time, instead of the twenty minutes it would take with Toriel. The jumps through space and time don't help the feeling in Frisk's head, making their head feel really fuzzy and a bit numb. The dizziness makes them lose their appetite very fast, no longer thinking about getting a snack when they get home. They could settle for laying down and resting their head on a pillow for a while. Maybe taking a nap and watching some TV. 

Sans seems to note their lightheadedness when they continue leaning on his shoulder for an awkward minute. Of course, the skeleton blames himself for jumping through the shortcuts one after the other. Unlike a human, he doesn't have any organs, so he doesn't know what it's like for his stomach to feel like it's flipping over. 

"Heh, the shortcut got you feeling sick, kiddo?" he asks, looking over his shoulder as much as he can without moving Frisk too much. The Royal Child  nods in reply, holding their stomach very gently. Sans leans his bike to the side and hops down, gently scooping up Frisk after taking his keys out of the ignition. It's not that hard to scoop up the small seven-year-old, seeing as they don't weigh that much. They carry Frisk inside, which the child doesn't protest against. They never got carried like that before, and they don't want to be walking on their own much right now. They don't want to make their dizziness too obvious, and they don't want Sans to feel as if he is to blame for it all. Sure, the shortcuts felt a bit rough, but Frisk had already been feeling unwell beforehand.

Sans puts Frisk down on the sofa before going back to close the door. The snow just started to catch up, it seems, getting a bit tougher instead of just a small drizzle of white. Toriel will probably have a bit of a hard time when she drives home from work, but the snow isn't too bad. Maybe if they're lucky, the snow will keep going overnight and they can have a day off of school. It can get horribly cold up close to My. Ebott. Sometimes it's easy to forget that they live on a mountain.

Frisk lays down and is very thankful for the chance to relax. Their head is starting to hurt, and they feel vaguely nauseous. They know it's not a cold, or some kind of sickness. They just feel sick when they start feeling a bit nervous. It's still new to Sans, who is surprised by the child's tiredness. 

"You alright there, kid? I didn't drive that terribly, right?" Sans asks, skipping some genuine concern into his voice. Frisk replies with a little bit of a forced smile, which he picks up on only because he is guilty of plenty of forced smiles himself. Sans sits down next to Frisk and gently places the back of their hand on Frisk's forehead. There's no fever or anything, but he isn't sure if that helps or not. At least if Frisk had a fever or some sort of cold, he could easily help them. 

"Had spaghetti. Leftovers," they reply, quietly, and with a bit of a guilty expression. Sans  vis i bly eases up at that. Of course. This kid would eat anything at their disposal. Even if it's burnt, gross spaghetti that isn't very edible. Papyrus has a big heart, but that doesn't mean that he has big cooking skills. Frisk sticks their tongue out a bit, which makes Sans laugh. 

"You should be careful what you eat, kiddo. Not everything in the refrigerator is going tibia edible," Sans replies. Frisk replies with a soft laugh, which makes Sans grin. The kid can light up a room when they smile. He's really proud to be their dunkle. 

"Speaking of spaghetti, Papyrus is going to stop by today. He wants to make sure that I'm not making a mess of the place, now that I moved out. He also wants to check if I've been feeding the pet rock," Sans shrugs, gesturing over to the rock in the corner of the living room table. Frisk grins at the mental image of Papyrus scolding Sans about their beloved pet rock. 

"Hey kid, wanna watch some TV while we wait for Papyrus to show?" Sans asks. Frisk doesn't nod, instead signing out Y-E-S. They are still a little slow, but they have been getting a lot better. Sans replies with the sign for 'cool', which is easily one of his favorite signs as of yet. Frisk continues grinning while Sans turns on  t he TV- looking through some shows they could watch.

Sans falls asleep after just about 40 minutes of TV watching. Frisk zones out more than once, slipping into a daze, but never  re al ly quite falling asleep. The sofa is soft and warm, and it feels safe with Sans around. And yet, they can't bring themselves to actually fall asleep. They jolt awake every time they fall into a doze, wiping at their eyes to keep from dozing off yet again. Their eyes always get damp when they fall asleep. They wonder why. Perhaps it's why they always wake up with so much sand in their eyes.

Papyrus comes in through the chimney. 

It's so unexpected that Sans snaps awake and his shoe flies off his foot and smacks into the ceiling. 

"Ready for a rude awakening?!" a booming voice calls. He is wearing one of those Christmas Santa hats. Frisk sits up, laughing while Papyrus awkwardly climbs out from the chimney. He is wearing a Santa outfit, in the style of his Battle Gear. Christmas is still roughly three weeks away, but the act is still well-appreciated. Frisk hops up and runs over to Papyrus to give his leg a huge hug. He grins, coughing up some soot. He's covered in it. Frisk doesn't seem to mind, though. 

Sans walks over to the two, putting on the fuzzy slipper that had flown off his foot when he was rudely awakened by his brother. Frisk stops hugging Papyrus, now covered in soot as well.

Toriel was going to kill him when she gets home. 

The kid looks up at Sans, still grinning and enjoying the moment. Alright,  they can  all s ave bath time for later. Frisk is gesturing over to the door. It has stopped snowing during the time that Sans took a nap and Frisk had been watching TV. It wasn't a lot of snow, but it was soft and still very workable. Frisk heads over to the coat rack and gets their hat, some gloves, a coat, and some boots. Papyrus seems excited, too. Sans gives them both a lazy, casual grin. 

 

"By golly! That's a great idea, Frisk! Let's go make a snowman, and then make some spaghetti for the snowman!" Papyrus cheers. Sans cuts in.

 

"Make sure you keep your gloves on, kid. It's bone cold outside," Sans jokes. Papyrus's eyes do that thing that looks like his eyes are popping out of his skull, which makes Frisk laugh. 

 

\---

 

The human and the Skelebros play outside for a long time. Three hours, maybe? It's hard to tell. Sure, the whole crew isn't around, but that's perfectly fine. Maybe when Christmas comes around, maybe they can all play around then.    


 

Toriel comes home around 6:40 at night. She had to stay late to get some more of her  prep a rations done, but she didn't mind much, knowing that the  skel eton brothers  woul d be home. By the time she pulled up her car, it had been pitch dark, but everybody was still outside, looking at the stars. Their loud playing had settled down to quiet, occasional chatter as they looked up at the stars. Sans had taken out his telescope, and pointed it up at the moon. 

 

The soft words of a mother  int e rrupt their gazing, if only for a moment. "My  my , you all appear to be very _starstruck_ ," Toriel jokes. Sans grins, though a little exhausted from the day. Life on the overworld has been a lot more busy than it used to be  bel ow the surface. Papyrus grins as well, but is making a very obvious attempt to hide it. Frisk runs over to their mother, giving them a hug while Toriel gives them a gentle pat on the head with this paw. Toriel stays outside with them for a little while, and they all stop to stare at the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to include Toriel noticing the mess of soot everywhere. Don't worry, we got you covered. Literally. There is soot everywhere. It's covering the floor, it's covering the dogs, it's covering the spaghetti...
> 
> Help.


	4. They All Fall Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This went from 0 to 100 really fast. Trigger warnings apply for this chapter, so check the tags. It is gonna get a little heavier from here on out, but I will try not to drown anybody with emotional pain. Toriel gives their lovely child a bath because children that age probably roll around in their own dirt for all we know. Of course, that requires cleaning under a certain gross bandage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crapple, this fic has a lot of hits. 11 Bookmarks????? People actually want to rEAD THIS? I'm so sorry,,
> 
> I put in a lot of shorter paragraphs into this chapter. I was writing on my phone, so the paragraphs looked a lot bigger. At the same time, I always divide up paragraphs when people are talking so that it is easier to follow along with the story. I may go into this chapter to fix up a few minor details, but I'm a procrastinator, so it won't be much.
> 
> \---
> 
> Edit 8/20/2016
> 
> Okay so I know I haven't updated this fic in litterally 6 months but I didn't know the typos were this bad. Apperantly my autocorrect changed the word soot to 'sod, door, and soon' which is absolutely fantastic. I can't believe this fic is over a year old and that only one person mentioned that?? Also, I fixed the typos many months ago, but it appears it didn't save my corrections for chapters 3 or 4. I fixed Chapter 4 today, but I didn't do anything about chapter 3. Sorry.

When the monsters (and Frisk) finally head inside, it had been another hour and everybody was really glad to get out of the cold. The skeletons don't have skin, and Toriel is covered in layers of fur, so Frisk was the one who really felt the worst of the chill air. They remove their coat, boots, and gloves to reveal a small child still covered with soot and ash. Toriel is startled by the black and gray powder covering her  beloved child from head to toe. Papyrus had gotten a lot of it off of himself in the snow, but Frisk wore a coat over the soot that was already sticking to them, so most of it was still there. It was even underneath their hair and under the collar of their sweater. It wasn't covering their pants much, but it had gotten on top of and even underneath their sleeves. Toriel looks startled by the mess by the fireplace, but after looking at Frisk and Papyrus, she seems to put two and two together.

 

 

Papyrus had already gotten his hands on the vacuum. "No worries, Your Majesty! The Great Papyrus will clean this place up neater than ever before!" he cheers, uncoiling the wire. Frisk looks down at their shirt to study the damage. Whoops. At least unlike Papyrus, their clothes weren't wet from the snow. His were still kinda sticking to his bones, which looked both interesting and a little weird. 

"It's time for you to take a bath, my child,"  Toriel starts. Frisk nods, but pauses. The soot had moved around into their hair while they were playing. It was also covering their arms and it would be hard for them to get the mess out by themselves. Especially with their not-so-perfect eyesight. Both Sans and Toriel can pick that up right away. Sans isn't really sure if he is needed, though. Toriel is Frisk's mom, while he is still a hybrid between dad and uncle. Frisk leaves to the bathroom with  Toriel and he kind of stays behind, giving the kid a nod while he sits down. Papyrus begins to carefully clean up the mess. Sans would help, but he isn't much for putting that much work into anything. He can't even bother cleaning his own side of the room, even now. Papyrus is better off without him for the time being.

Frisk walks into the bathroom while continuing to hold Toriel's soft, furry hand. The pads of her paws still feel a bit strange, but they are a source of comfort for Frisk. Toriel starts up the bubble bath for Frisk, which they are particularly excited about. They love bubble baths. They have only ever had one in the past, sure, but they loved the experience. Toriel can see the start of the bubble bath filling their face with determination.

Frisk undresses their layers of clothes with some help from Toriel. The soot wouldn't be so bad if it was just from their hug with papyrus. However, they were out playing for hours, and the black dust had traveled because of all of the movement, causing an even bigger mess. Most of it is on the clothes, but it looks like a lot of it had stuck to Frisk's bandage. It's mostly towards their wrist and their shoulder. The bandage is a lot larger than Toriel originally thought.

The bandage is very long- covering from Frisk's wristbone all the way up to the top of their shoulder. Toriel isn't completely sure if it's because the bandage needs to be that long, or if Frisk just used a whole roll of bandage because they didn't know they can just cut it short if they need to. Toriel is honestly afraid to know the answer to that. Frisk is too distracted by the bubble bath to realize that Toriel has been staring at their arm this whole time.

Toriel's main concern, of course, is the injury or injuries that the bandage is covering. The soot is sticking to the gauze like glue, so it can't be washed out. All the netting that the bandage has to allow for the skin to breathe had allowed for plenty of the soot to settle and get stuck. If Frisk has any cuts or anything open, the ash can get right in. While ashes are quite sterile, they can cause an infection if the injury or injuries aren't washed out. Toriel doesn't know if Frisk is aware of any of that.

Toriel goes and gets a big plastic cup from the sink while the water starts to fill up in the tub. They check to see if the water is too cold or too hot, but they aren't completely sure. Humans don't have fur, and they probably prefer different temperatures. If the water is too cold, Toriel can gently heat it with some fire magic if she is careful about it. If it's a little hot, it will cool down with time. Toriel gives Frisk a gentle pat on the head with her free hand. 

"If the water is too hot or too cold, let me know, okay?" she starts. She isn't sure if she should keep avoiding the topic of the bandage. Frisk looks at their own arm and seem to be asking themselves the same question.

"My child, it would be for the best if you took off that bandage, for now. If you are hurt beneath it, it can get worse with all of the soot getting into it. It would also be good to wash your arm to make sure it's clean," Toriel assures. Frisk quickly shakes their head, really uncomfortable and  unhappy with the idea of taking off the bandage in front of Toriel. Their goatmom gently takes their hand, giving it a reassuring pat. Frisk looks very conflicted.

"My child, I won't be mad at you or disappointed with whatever I find. I can promise that. You do not need to say a word as to why you have been hurt, but please allow me the opportunity to take a look. Your arm could get hurt worse than it has been already," Toriel states, her voice  gentle, yet firm. Frisk decides not to respond, looking down at their feet. Toriel's heart aches in her chest.

"You can take it off yourself, if you want. That, or I could help you. I do not want you to feel as if you are being forced into anything you do not want to do, but I want to make sure that you are safe," Toriel assures. Her voice remains soft. Frisk replies with a fragmented sentence, their voice raspy and tiny, almost inaudible. 

"Won't get mad?"

"I won't get mad. I promise," Toriel replies. Her tense shoulders relax a little bit at that. Frisk gives her their arm, and she gently peels the bandage away from their shoulder, first. She is careful, noting how tightly it has been bound. The only thing audible in the room is the sound of water filling the tub.

Frisk's shoulder is mostly fine. There are some red marks and a little bit of bruising, but there isn't much of anything to cover. On the way down, however, there are scars alongside open cuts. Many of them have scabs over them, and seem to be healing fine on their own. However, there are a few that are a bit deep, and look quite painful. More towards their wrist, there is a particularly dirty cut that seems to have... gross liquid coming out of it. It made the bandage a weird color, and looks like it just hasn't been healing right. Toriel hasn't seen anything like it in the past. 

Frisk avoids eye contact, seeming very afraid of the reaction their  goatmom is going to have. There are many questions. Why are there so many cuts and bruises? Where did the cuts come from? Where did the bruises come from? Were they self inflicted, or were they caused by humans? Were they caused by the monsters that they had to fight along the way? Toriel can't be sure of anything. Of course, she promised not to ask, so she won't.

Toriel gently eases Frisk into the water, which turned out to be too hot originally but had cooled to a very comfortable temperature. Their arm stings horribly in the water, both burning and itching when they slowly submerge it. Perhaps having soapy bubbles in the water wasn't the best thing right now, though the bubbles were all soft and would be very enjoyable otherwise. Toriel grabs the cup and fills it with water, using it to rinse out Frisk's dirty hair.  She  keeps her movements  very slow and soft, treating Frisk  as if they were the most delicate child on the planet.

Frisk really loves getting their hair washed. They don't trust anybody around them without layers  and layers  of clothes on, but they know that they can trust their new monster  family. Toriel shampoos and washes Frisk's hair while they press their eyes tightly shut, playing with the bubbles in the tub. They love the foamy bubbles and the way it feels in their hands. It's soothing. Toriel is the type of mom that buys shampoo that doesn't burn when it gets in your eyes, but Frisk does it out of reflex. It's hard to tell either way. Their usual squint isn't that much different if you're looking from the side. Bubbles are still fun regardless of whether or not they can be seen, anyways.

Frisk's shoulders relax when their hair is rinsed with clean water. The water has gone kinda dirty. Frisk is a kid, after all. It's absolutely amazing what kind of gross substances a seven-year-old can get stuck in their hair or on their skin. Their hair is an absolute mess in the back of their head, which they don't appear to have actually been washing. Frisk doesn't seem to like anything touching the back of their head, so Toriel is extra gentle when it comes to it.

After washing through Frisk's hair and their face, Toriel lets the water drain from the tub and turns on the shower. She makes sure it is an alright temperature before giving Frisk a little nudge. Frisk's eyes open to their usual squint and they move under the shower, cleaning off the soapy water from the bath while Toriel looks away and cleans up everything in the bathroom. She gives the bandage a bit of a grimace before she puts it in the trash.

Frisk's arm looks like it has an infection. Toriel knows that it really needs medical treatment as soon as possible, but they also know that Frisk seems to despise the idea of going to the doctor. Doctors always think that everything has some sort of binary, and Frisk hates it. They don't like to go into detail with anybody about their medical history. They don't want to give up their old name, so they can't find Frisk's immunization records or anything like that. At the same time, there aren't many doctors that would want a nonbinary 7-year-old with a monster for a mother as a patient. 

 

Toriel's healing magic can only work with bruises and the smaller cuts. The bigger ones need to be able to heal on their own. Maybe Sans would be a good person to go to for help in this kind of situation? Sans knows some healing magic as well from when he was raising Papyrus. Healing magic comes in handy when you have a kid or a younger brother. Sans probably also knows some healing magic because he only has  1HP . He sleeps a lot, which raises his HP over the maximum, but that can only help so much.

Sans might be able to help, but healing magic hurts when it comes to toxins and infections. Removing something bad from a body using magic causes the person being healed to feel all of that gradual pain all at once. Like pulling out a very long splinter as fast as possible, or ripping out a loose tooth by trying it to a door handle and then slamming that door. Toriel will need help if she plans on healing deep cuts. Of course, if she is enlisting the help of Sans, then Frisk will need to know.   


When Frisk turns off the water, Toriel passes them a towel. Frisk takes it using their healthy arm, which has a few bruises as well. It has plenty of scars, though. Toriel wouldn't want to ask even if she could.  There is no possible good answer that Frisk can give her that would make her feel any better about this. Kids get hurt a lot, sure, but not like that. Her heart plummets into her stomach at the thought of Frisk injuring themselves, or the much worse image of somebody hitting Frisk. Frisk is still small and not that strong, so the injuries they have don't make a lot of sense on their own.

Frisk steps out of the bath with their towel and looks over to Toriel. Toriel snaps out of her thoughts to give the child a sweet smile. 

"Frisk, I know that this is something you would rather not talk about at the moment, but may I see your arm again?" Toriel asks. Frisk puts down the lid on the toilet seat and sits down on top of it, extending out their arm for Toriel to look over. Their arm looks way better than before, at least. Their arm is nice and mostly clean, and it doesn't look anywhere as dark or nasty as before. The bruises there are actually not that bad at all, looking mostly as if they are already going away. Toriel moves her hand over the bruises and uses her healing magic to patch those up. Frisk grimaces a little, but doesn't seem all that bothered by it. It's done in a flash and there is barely even a pinch. It was nice, if anything. Fast, too.

Toriel is still worried by the infected cut just below Frisk's wristbone. They look it over once again to make sure. It is definitely infected, though it is not septic or anything too horrible. It's not something that would make Toriel worry about Frisk losing a limb, very specifically. Toriel couldn't exactly guarantee that it would heal up on it's own, though. It's an off color, and it has pus in it. It doesn't reek like a really bad infection, which is the only positive that Toriel can note for right now.

"My child, you have an infection on your arm. If we don't treat it as soon as possible, it will get worse, and you might need to stay with a doctor for a while," Toriel starts. Frisk looks really upset by the word doctor, so Toriel uses that a bit to her advantage.

"If you don't want to go to a doctor, we will have to see what we are able to do at home, okay? I can only heal the bruising and the very small cuts. My magic won't work on the infection, but I believe maybe Sans can use his healing magic along with me," Toriel starts Frisk seems to be listening, so they continue.

"If you don't mind showing Sans any of this, we can use our magic to see if we can fix you up. Of course, this would mean snowing Sans your arm. If you don't want him to see, you can go to a doctor instead. He won't ever have to know until you are ready to tell him," Toriel adds. Frisk pauses, and shakes their head. Their voice is soft and slow, as well as incredibly hard to hear despite the room being quiet.

"Sans good. Can show him."

Toriel leans forwards and takes Frisk's hands in her own. "Magic will be quicker, but it will hurt more than taking medication. It might hurt very bad if the infection is very bad, but we will see what we can do," Toriel replies. Frisk nods. Toriel pauses for a second, before repeating herself.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Frisk?"

The royal child looks down at their hands. It's either this, or a doctor. There is no way to get around this. They nod again, slowly. Toriel goes and picks up a  tanktop , putting it over Frisk's head while they tuck in their towel into itself.

They nod again. The idea of fixing their arm up fills them up with determination.

They SAVE.  



	5. Fairy Tales are Grimm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk needs some medical attention. Toriel can't do this all on her own. Nobody can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Trigger warnings are pretty big in this chapter. Look out for graphic descriptions of wounds and injuries, as well as blood. Gross stuff.

Toriel leaves and returns to get some more clothes for Frisk. She returns with their pajamas, including a top with sleeves for after Frisk gets their arm fixed. She also returns with a painkiller for Frisk to swallow.  App are ntly , painkillers will thin their blood in the slightest and lessen any swelling, as well as taking away some of the pain. Toriel hopes it isn't too bad, but the infection doesn't look to great. It looks new, though, as if it hasn't been festering for a while. If it was there for a while Frisk could be facing a really bad fever and a lot more unpleasant side effects than they have been facing already. Toriel is afraid, but full of hope. Chara, when they had passed away, was horribly sick. It was poison, and the symptoms weren't visible. Monsters aren't good with fixing internal organs or internal bleeding. Healing Magic works best when the monster doing the healing can see the injury. Then, they can press their magic into the injury and visualize it clearing itself up, which causes the magic to  im itate the visualization. Deeper cuts are very difficult, because without knowing the right anatomy, the skin can be completely sealed *over* an infection and cause a lot of harm. The wound can continue bleeding, or become septic or full of bacteria. The infection can become gangrene and result in loss of a limb.

Toriel enters the bathroom and gives Frisk the clothes, instructing them gently that they are not to put on the long sleeve shirt until after their arm gets patched up. She tells them to take the pill as well, making sure that Frisk actually swallows it before she leaves the bathroom. While she trusts Frisk, she knows that Children hate medication and think that they don't actually need it, so they might throw it out or flush it if nobody is looking at them.

Toriel's footsteps are a little heavy, but there's a nice echo to them when she heads down the stairs. Papyrus had finished vacuuming and had begun to wipe down the chimney with paper towels and some sort of lemony cleaner. He appears to be cleaning the kitchen in the other room. He is willing down the counters and there is a mop out, although it is unused. Toriel used to keep her kitchen very clean, because she uses fire magic instead of the stove. However, other monsters use her stove when they come over, and sometimes Sans likes to fix himself a snack. She is grateful for the help of the taller skeleton, and she is also glad that he seems to understand when she goes to privately talk to Sans.

She gives Sans a gentle nudge to wake him up. He is startled and opens his eyes, one flashing a sharp blue for a second before his eyes go black. She keeps still while he takes a second to recognize his surroundings, and forces an awkward smile. Toriel whispers to him, gently.

"Sorry to wake you, Sans, but I could use your help with something right now," Toriel requests. Sans's white orbs return to his eyes, softening a little. She looks quite stressed at the moment, and he knows that she is deeply worried about something. Seeing as the kid isn't with her, it might be something relating to them. He can feel a little bit of sweat dripping down his forehead.

This could be anything.

Toriel might be finding out about timelines. Perhaps Frisk hinted something related to their involvement with Chara. It could be something from before the fall, that Frisk didn't want to ever talk about. It could be about thoughts of murder. It could be anything at all, and Sans  really doesn't like his options right now.  Toriel can  see that Sans doesn't like what he is hearing,  and she also knows that he really cares about Frisk. Neither of them want to see Frisk hurt, or in any kind of trouble. This isn't anybody's fault, but both of them can't help but blame themselves.

"What's wrong with Frisk?" Sans whispers, with a nervous edge to his tone. Toriel looks down, unable to meet his gaze. 

"My child has an infection under the bandage on their arm. Your healing magic may help in some way that mine cannot," Toriel replies. Her voice vaguely sounds a little hurt. They just wished Frisk would tell them about something like this a little sooner. Sure, she wants to give Frisk plenty of space if they need it, but she prioritizes being a mother over being a friend. Frisk's health is her utmost concern. 

Sans pauses to process the information for a moment. He swallows hard, which is very strange for a skeleton. The bandage? It might not have anything to do with timelines, but this certainly isn't a better  scenario by any means. There is a long line of things that can kill humans, and infections are a pretty notable thing on that list. He also doesn't know where the 'injury' came from. If he finds out that something hurt Frisk, they're going to pay. Whoever lays their hands on his family will no longer have hands.

On the other hand, the cut could have also been self-inflicted. That is something Sans absolutely does not want to think about right now. It's worse because if it is, Sans can understand every reason the human would want to do it, and it's not pretty. He wouldn't wish his depression on anybody else in the world, really. 

Sans gets up from where he is sitting and stretches his spine, following Toriel up the stairs and into the bathroom. Papyrus can barely be heard downstairs, humming a tune while he cleans up the dishes. Sans is glad that he isn't a part of this scenario right now.

Toriel opens the door after two gentle knocks, walking in with Sans right behind her. Sans has his hands in his pockets. Frisk is wearing their blank  tanktop with their soft pajama pants on they are holding the shirt in their hands like some sort of safety blanket, cradling it to their chest. Sans grimaces at the cuts. There is no bruising anywhere to be seen because of Toriel's healing magic, so he isn't seeing the  wors t of it at least. Toriel gives Frisk a gentle hug and strokes their hair. They look pretty uncomfortable, but the hug makes them relax their tense shoulders a little, so it is worth it.

Toriel silently and gently takes Frisk's arm, holding it out for Sans to see. The white orbs in his eyes  disappear, leaving only a void of black. He can't believe how messed up this kid's arm is.

The bruising isn't there, but there are still little soft parts of  their arm where it looks like they have been... hit? A lot. Their arm has that deep gash under the  wristbone, going sideways in a weird direction, as if  done by a trembling hand. It looks as if the more orderly cuts, going in the same direction in one spot, were self-inflicted. Most of those scars are older, though some are pretty deep. Sans tries not to grimace at them.

Then, there are cuts randomly sprayed around that don't fit the pattern. Those are the deepest ones, sprayed about randomly. Sans doesn't think they are self inflicted, seeing as they don't really fit the pattern like the other ones do. These look more as if the poor kid had been stabbed at by something else, or as if they got in a big fight. The infected cut can be grouped in along with those.

Sans leans down and gently rests his forehead against Frisk's. He closes his eyes for a moment, to kind of regain his bearings. Frisk moves away from Toriel to give him a big hug, which he returns, pressing them close against his chest. He doesn't want to see Frisk hurting like this. It hurts his soul. This is his kid. Frisk hides their face in his fluffy winter coat, and Toriel keeps on stroking their hair. No words really needed to be said.

When Frisk pulls away, Sans takes off his coat and  wrap s it around Frisk. It smells a little like grease, sure, but it also strangely smells like the smell of a new car. The soft seats. It's really comforting, and the jacket had a warmth to it that Frisk really didn't expect. They like the feeling of weighted blankets and heavy jackets, and it really helps to calm their nerves and put them at ease. Sans reaches over to take their arm, running his bony fingers along the smaller of the cuts. Toriel must have sealed up the small ones. He can't believe the kid's arm was even worse than it is now. He tries not to think about it, but it doesn't work. 

The infection is something he can work with. The cut looks like it has been cleaned out from the bath that Frisk took, but he still wants to clean it out. He isn't sure exactly what to clean it out with, though. Hydrogen Peroxide? Alcohol? He doesn't know much about disinfectant. He rarely cleans and he doesn't have any muscles or skin. Toriel isn't completely sure what to do, either. Sans stops time for a moment, to check his phone without the two of them knowing about it. He researches how to deal with an infection, quickly, so that he doesn't have to waste any time.

The infected cut is a pretty unhappy shade of red. There is pus coming out of it, which isn't good. Sans feels Frisk's head for a second, glad that time is stopped so that he doesn't need to explain anything. Frisk is a little warm, but it doesn't seem like they have a fever, still. The infection is bad, but obviously it hasn't gotten too horrible. The pus is fighting off the bacteria that entered into their arm. To heal up their arm, he is gonna have to trap bacteria into some of the blood and then  pull it out through the wound. It will not be pretty, and it is definitely going to hurt. If Sans does it all at once with time stopped, there could be complications as well. He has never stopped time to heal anybody before. Doing that would give away his ability, and it might hurt Frisk more. What if they feel all the pain from it at once? What if taking the blood out while their heart isn't beating ends up making things worse? He can't experiment like that.

Sans puts his phone away and unfreezes time. Frisk looks a little startled, putting their hand on their head a little, where Sans had touched it before while time had frozen. The kid is pretty observant, aren't they? Well, he shouldn't suspect anything less from Frisk,  of all people . The white orbs are back in his eyes, having calmed down a lot more while he was reading from his phone.  Frisk has an infection, sure, but he doesn't think that they are in immediate danger. That doesn't mean the danger doesn't exist, but he can try to stay calm and think about this all rationally.

"Alright, Frisk. We need to clean out this cut with some antiseptic. Then we need to use my magic to get some of that bacteria out of it, alright? It's gonna hurt a bit, not gonna lie to ya kiddo, but then we will put some cream on it and bandage up your arm again. Then you can put on your pajamas and we can go get some  icecream and pie. Sound good?" Sans asks. Frisk nods, staying eerily calm about this all. They seem more unsettled by the fact that they are getting help than by the fact that they have an infection, and that worries him.

Though, Frisk is a little surprised. Compared to the home they used to be a part of, they had rarely gone to doctors. They probably don't even have all of their vaccinations. They rarely visited a dentist, and their family hadn't been able to afford the novocaine to numb their mouth. It had hurt a lot and they got a free toothbrush out of it, seeing as dentists don't give out  lol l ipops anymore. They had never gone to an eye doctor, either. Every time they have gotten sick or hurt, they were told to ride it out. Colds would go away with medicine. The flu would go away on its own, if they had it. If there was another virus going around, they would just stay inside more often. Frisk had always just waited it out, and usually it hasn't been that bad for them. They had bronchitis as a kid, and it was never treated, so it developed into asthma. Frisk was told that that would go away over time, too. They guess it did. In all of their experience, they have never experienced an illness that they couldn't wait with. The talk about doctors makes them scared because all of their life, going to the doctors meant admitting you thought something was going to kill you, like a heart attack, or losing an arm. The worry of their new family is startling, because never before has anybody asked about their injuries, and never before had anybody cared about their implications.

Their arm did hurt. They didn't like moving it in certain angles. It made gross fluids come out of it, and sometimes it bled. And yet, they truly believed that if they had enough determination, the problem may just go away one day. Their family had been mean to them, and even they went away over time. They don't really understand what the antiseptic is, or what it does, but they trust that Sans and Toriel are helping them in any way that they can. If it is going to help them, then why would they  complain?  As long as they weren't going to go to the doctor, they must be okay staying at home like this.

Sans puts his bony fingers on Frisk's arm. They look up at him with curious eyes and he pauses, freezing time once again.

Sans freezes time without Frisk, by himself once again. He goes over to  to medicine cabinet, getting out some "pain-free antiseptic" and some antibacterial cream. The cream is a really weird color, kind of nearing a deep  red. Sans has no idea what it is, but it's not expired or anything, so it is probably fine . The pain free antiseptic is just wipes, and Sans can guess that Frisk's wound is too deep to give any truth to the "pain-free" part. At the very least, it won't burn as horribly as alcohol. That's the very least he can say about it.

Sans enters the bathroom and sets down everything he needs. Sans returns over to Frisk and Toriel, holding the pain-free wipes in his hands. He put's Frisk hand on his arm, just like it was before he had frozen time. Then, he unfreezes time and looks over to Toriel.

Toriel is startled by the antiseptic that just magically appeared out of thin air. So is Frisk, though Frisk just looks vaguely confused and doesn't opt to ask any questions. Before Toriel can say anything, he starts to speak. 

"Hey, Frisk. These wipes are just to clean out your Infection. They're not supposed to hurt, but the cut is kinda deep, so I can't be sure of that. Okay?" Sans admits. Frisk nods. Preparing for the pain makes them kind of nervous, but it will be easier to deal with if they know it is going to happen. That, and they can work on trying to stay still.

Toriel looks on nervously while Sans presses the wipe into Frisk's cut. They flinch a little, but then visibly relax. The wipe hurts a little, but it's more of a dull throb and vague burn. It's not the sharp burning anything else might give them. Sans is careful with cleaning out the cut, needing way more than one wipe to really make sure he's cleaning the cut  out.  Frisk squeezes their good hand on Sans's arm, squeezing his arm  real l y tight when their arm burns a little. Toriel gently pets their hair. 

"I'm going to use my magic to see if I can get that infection out of there. I want you to close your eyes, alright, kiddo? Tori, I need a little space for this one. Sorry."

Toriel moves to the side, averting her eyes away from Sans and Frisk. She is pretty sure she doesn't want to see this. Frisk closest their eyes tight, like Sans wanted. He moves his bones over the infection, one eye going black while  wisps of blue move out from the other eye. He pulls his fingers up, and a mix of yellow and dark red starts to rise up from the clean wound. When he starts to pull out the infection-

He is greeted with the loudest, most  piercing scream he has ever heard in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine you have a papercut. Imagine all of the little aches and pains that papercut will give you over the next week or two while it heals. Imagine the feeling of getting hand sanitizer into it at least twice, and how although it is annoying, it is tolerable for the most part. Now imagine, that instead of feeling those little pains throughout the course of two weeks, you felt it over the course of a few seconds. Sound painful? I'm not done. Imagine that, instead of a papercut, it is a huge open cut that hurts more often than it doesn't and can take a month and a half or two months to really get time to heal. Now imagine all of that pain scrunched together in that spot, and instead of feeling it all over the course of two months, you felt that pain in the course of just a few seconds.
> 
> Now you know how Frisk is feeling right now.
> 
> \---
> 
> Sorry for the late update. Had a ton of work to do. I wanted to make sure this chapter was decent enough to put up. 
> 
> To make things clear: In this fic, Frisk, Napstablook, Monster Kid, and Chara all use they/them pronouns.  
> My personal headcannon is that Frisk and Napstablook are Agender, Monster Kid is Pangender, and Chara is Genderfluid. If you have different non-binary headcannons for them, shoot me a message on askmercifulfrisk on Tumblr! I would love to hear your headcannons! The non-binary world is a fun and beautiful place!


	6. Things That Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk has another flashback. Sans and Toriel are very worried parents that just want their kid to be okay.

They're all alone again. The house smells like smoke, which is strange, because they don't remember anybody in the house smoking before. The smell is so faint that they can barely pick it out. Their mother doesn't smoke anymore. Sometimes she drinks, but she never smokes. She only ever smokes on days where she had to make a really big decision for work, or on days where they don't have enough money to pay one of the bills. Despite the fact that the smell is barely even there, Frisk finds themselves scared out of their mind that something really bad happened today,

They wonder what they did wrong.

There is nobody calling their name. There is nobody screaming at them to come downstairs, or wake them up. They are nervous now, looking at the clock to see that they have slept in. It might be a weekend, they suddenly recall, but they still aren't allowed to sleep in this late. They wake up at 5:30 on weekdays, sure, but on weekends, they still need to wake up before 8:00.  Right now, it's 1:00am. They slept through breakfast. While they don't always eat breakfast or lunch, this is still alarming.

Still, something... bad is going to happen if they go downstairs. So, they don't go. They hide under their sheets, trembling and hoping that nothing is going to come upstairs and hurt them. Under the blanket becomes uncomfortably hot, after a while. The circulated air makes them feel like they can't breathe. Is it the circulated air? Or is it the horrible feeling going down their spine that something is horribly wrong? That they're going to be punished for sleeping in for so long?  


The child had spends a whole in their room, panicking and walking around, scared of going downstairs. Why has nobody called for them yet? Why haven't they been yelled at, yet? Maybe their mom had some of that funny juice for breakfast and had so much that she fell asleep at the table. Maybe she left during the night and came back early in the morning, and was just in her room, sleeping it off. That didn't happen often, but it did happen every once in a while. Maybe she was just sleeping in late, too. She is allowed to do that. She is a mom. Moms have to deal with a lot of stress, so they are allowed to sleep in more. Children don't have to deal with a lot of stress, do they don't get to sleep in.  Frisk thinks over the possibilities to themselves until they find themselves mentally prepared enough to head downstairs. When they finally do, they're surprised of what they find.

They find nothing. The pictures are gone from the walls. The house is empty, and deserted. The furniture is still there, though. The blender and microwave oven is gone. On the table, there is a single key to the house. The human child has seen this happen to them before, but they can't quite understand how it could happen to them _again_.   


They run upstairs to find their mother's room empty. There is some money on a table, pinned down with a dusty alarm clock. The drawers are mostly empty. There are a few leftover clothes, but there is absolutely nothing of value. The child runs downstairs and grabs a chair to check the cupboards and the refrigerator. Their mother didn't take a lot of the food, though there was barely anything there. There was food, though, and Frisk was hungry. Children aren't smart enough to think about rationing food. Children aren't smart enough to think about saving any resources. Certainly, children aren't smart enough to save their money. Especially when they're only six.

They had done something bad, most likely. Their mother did this last to them a year ago, when they were five. She had packed her luggage and left in the middle of the night, with a note inn their room saying that she was sorry. They had lived in the empty house for about a week and stopped going to school, thinking of it at first like a break. They eventually went outside to go and buy some snacks, and told a cop that their mom disappeared. The cop had been calm, thinking that this lost child had simply lost their mom in the store. Then, the cop realized that the child's mom wasn't in the store, or even the block. The cop  put the child in their car and had taken them to the station from the store. Frisk would only tell him that their mom had disappeared a while ago, and they weren't sure when. The cop had traced the child's mom down to her newest apartment, and found the number so that he could give her a call and ask about what happened. She insisted that the child had ran away, and thrown tantrums, saying that they didn't want to come home. The officers weren't sure over whether or not they believed her, but they didn't want to turn this into a case if they could avoid it. The child picked up on the story and lied, saying that their mother was right. They apologized and started crying, scared of being left alone if they told the officers the truth. Their mother told them that if she ever made up a story, that they would get in a lot of trouble if they didn't go along with it. The small child was told by the cops that they needed to listen to their mother more, and that they better not run away from home again. They were too young to be out by themselves, and it was dangerous outside without their mom around.  Their mom came by in a taxi. They had to go back to their old home, pack their things, and come to their new apartment.

 

This was the new apartment that the child had gotten used to. Now, they needed to go out and find their mother again, just like they did a year ago. Now, they're a bit older, and a bit smarter, so they should be able to wait for a bit. Their mother didn't leave a note out as an apology, so maybe she didn't leave, after all? Maybe they were just being paranoid. Maybe she was spending the night with a friend, or on a little vacation out of town. Maybe she took her stuff and went to go stay at a hotel for a little while. She will come back. She is a mom. Moms are supposed to love their children, not leave them. Maybe if they hope really hard, like the characters on TV, then their mom will just come back to them after being gone for a little while. She needs a break. They knows they are a stressful child to take care of. At least, that is what they have been told.  


 

Though, their mother used to leave them in other places, too. Sometimes she left the child at bus stops and in parks, saying that she will come back in just a bit. The child was trusting, but now they are sure that nobody will ever come for them. When their mother leaves them in public places, often they find their way back in one way or another. They ask strangers where their street is. They can't read maps very well, but they can ask people to read maps for them. They avoid police officers as much as possible, though. Their mother told them that if they talk to the police, she will get in a lot of trouble, and they will take her away. The child doesn't want her to be taken away. She is the only family that they really have left since the accident with their dad. He was taken away, and he can't come back even if he wanted to. Death doesn't work that way. The child doesn't want their mother to be taken away by anything, even if it's by cops, and cops are supposed to be good people.

They always managed to find their way home after a while. Whenever they came home,  regardless of how long it had taken them, they would apologize to their mother and go over to their room. Sometimes the  two of them wouldn't talk for days. Sometimes, their mother would pretend that they don't really exist, like a ghost they just can't escape from. From that, the child discovered the name that they would like to be called. Something from phrase that they heard sometimes on TV, and on the radio when their mother wasn't around. Search and Frisk. They don't know what Frisk means, but all their life, they have been doing a lot of searching. Searching for their mom. Searching for a way home. Searching for answers. Frisk just seemed to be a fitting name for them.   


This time, it takes a while for Frisk to find home again. They live a good week on their own in their house. After school they would go around neighborhoods, looking around at houses and asking people in a quiet voice if anybody moved in around here lately. School had been a priority for them. If they stopped going to school, teachers would notice something was wrong. If teachers noticed something was wrong, then Frisk's mom could get in trouble for it. When they find their mom again, they also might gt in trouble for missing so much school. It was something they definitely didn't want to get in trouble for, so they went. At some point, they get pick-pocketed in the street and lost 18 dollars that their mother left  them.  They would search the blocks for  hours a day, looking for just about everything. Information about their mother. Information about people that might have a new neighbor. Information about where to get free food. Information about how to find their way back home. This continued until enough days passed and they got too hungry to continue searching on their own. They went over to a policeman with their backpack full of their remaining clothes, saying that they ran away and wanted to go home but don't know their way back. 

\---

 

The last time they were left alone was on Mt. Ebott. Their mother had walked with them up the mountain, and then gave them a gentle smile. It was bitter and cold that day, Frisk can remember. It was freezing, and they had their school clothes on. They were wearing a tanktop with overalls on top. On top of that was their favorite striped sweater, which they have been wearing for four days in a row, including at night. They were never taught how to dress, so they didn't know any better. The bottom of the mountain was cold, but at they hiked up, the temperature started to drop. Frisk's mother never offered them her hat, gloves, or scarf at any point during the trip, but Frisk didn't mind. 

 

At one point, she finally stopped. They had been walking for what felt like an eternity, but it was really only about twenty minutes. Frisk had no idea where they were, and they had a horrible feeling on their stomach that they weren't going to be able to find their way back as easily from this place. This wasn't a park on the other side of town, or some park out in the middle of nowhere. This was a trail, full of signs saying DO NOT ENTER that their mother had eagerly ignored. When they stopped, She  pat them on the head, and kneeled down so that she was at the same height as her child.   


"I'll be right back, okay? Wait right here," she promises. The child  nods and sits on a rock. The image of their mother fades into the distance. They can hear the trees echo the words they have heard far to many times.

"I just wasn't ready for the responsibility."

And just like that, they knew she was never coming back.

 

_ Maybe neither were they. _

\---

Mt. Ebott is cold and dark.  They have been wandering for what has been hours, now. They only have the clothes on their back, as well as a stick that they took from a tree. They didn't pick it up from the ground because there are a lot of bugs on the ground. They didn't want to pick up a stick covered in really gross bugs. They had nothing for protection besides the bandage covering from their left wrist all the way up to their  shoulder, covered in dirt and older blood. They had fallen down a lot, disoriented from their growing anxiety and improper footwear.      


At some point they stopped entirely to find shelter in a cave. It had started snowing really hard, and their face was numb. Their hands felt horrible. They sat down in the shelter of the cave, held  their head low, and hugged their knees. They cried for help as loud as they could, but nobody came.

\-----

Frisk's scream had made Toriel jump to her feet. Papyrus can be heard dropping something downstairs, something made of glass into shards.  He was probably cleaning a vase and the scream had startled him into dropping it.  Sans tries his best to keep his focus. Frisk screams for a good  two seconds, before they black out entirely.

It's over really fast. Sans can tell that the second he can see the fluid leaves Frisk's arm, that it's already done. It was a very sharp pain, probably, but it was quick. Sans keeps his hands steady on his magic, lifting out a liquid ball of old puss and bad blood.  It's a  disgusting color that makes his soul feel like it's being flipped around and submerged in water. Basically, it is the  monster equivalent of his organs churning at the sight.  He lifts  the ball of liquid  over to the sink, letting it go down the drain. He runs the water in the sink, staying away from it like it turned into kryptonite.

Toriel is panicking. The very second that Sans finishes, she grabs Frisk by the shoulders and cradles them tightly to her chest. She is careful with their arm, but checks them for a pulse and to see that everything is okay. Her heart- well, soul, is beating hard against her chest. Sans reaches out, gently, and puts a hand on her shoulder. He didn't mean to hurt Frisk. Frisk should be okay now, with a lot of the infection cleaned from the cut using his magic. It won't cause them problems in the long run now if they just let the wound heal up on it's own. Sans very carefully bandages up the cut so that it's pressed closed and will heal just fine on its own. Then, he bandages up Frisk's arm from the end of that cut on their  wristbones all the way up past their elbow. After making sure that the bandage is secure, he wraps a but more of their bandage around their  shoulder,  noting the healing still needing to be done just below their collarbones. 

Toriel puts Frisk in their pajama top, and Papyrus can be heard running up the stairs. Sans goes out to talk to him and explain that Frisk got a little hurt and had screamed out. Be explains that the kid fainted, but that they will wake up soon enough. Papyrus seems to know quite immediately that Sans isn't telling the truth, but doesn't press him for any more  details .  If Sans is lying, it is probably for a good reason. T oriel cleans up all the medical supplies and puts the first aid kit underneath the sink. She scoops Frisk up in her arms and hugs them tightly to her chest, stroking their hair.

Everything is going to be okay. They are going to get through this. Frisk will wake up soon enough. They're too determined to fail.

That, and they can load a SAVE. Sans felt the presence of a save earlier on, but didn't question it. If anything happens to Frisk, they can load their save and get better medical attention. There hasn't been any anomalies in the  space time continuum for a while. The further he has been going on in this timeline, the less general d éja vu he has been feeling. He won't be bitter about a LOAD, knowing that Frisk would only do it if they really had to. On the other hand, he wouldn't he able to take a RESET. It would be too much for him. They have already gotten so far. If he isn't feeling déja vu, that means that Frisk has never gotten this far and reset only to get this far again. His family should be safe, but the idea of it is still something that torments him when he sleeps.

Frisk is tucked in gently by Toriel's soft arms. Sans sits down on the bed next to the human. The human's expressions change very subtly, as if they are dreaming about something. Sans breathes out a sigh of relief at that. Frisk is dreaming. They aren't in a coma, and they aren’t in some kind of worrisome, dreamless state. Sans's soul feels as if it is pulsating in this throat. He feels so  nervous, though now it seems he might be able to rest easy for a while. Frisk's chest rises and falls as they doze, and Sans lets his shoulders relax. Toriel leans in to sit with Frisk and stroke their back . Sans also takes a seat near Frisk, leaning forward a little to gently pat their hair. 

They're going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry. I wrote most of this chapter between classes, as well as at like 3 AM when I couldn't go to sleep. I hope it all makes as much sense written down as it does in my head. Sorry for the gross-out last chapter. Hopefully this chapter wasn't as bad. I'm a very tired Grandmapi to you all. I'm going to elaborate more in later chapters. Frisk's story about being abandoned as a kid is based off of some of the stories I have heard from friends and family that have actually happened: kids getting abandoned and then returning to their families after taking the blame. Kids that always end up finding their way back to the closest thing to a home that they have. Frisk does it because they are determined enough to do it.
> 
> A03 Is doing this really weird thing where I will upload a spellchecked chapter that has no errors, and then it will add random spaces in certain words? The previous chapters have the same issue as well. Because it doesn't always show up on the editor, I can't always fix it. I went back to try and fix some of it, and I think I got a lot of it, but there still might be a ton of weirdly spaced words throughout the fic. Sorry,,,,


	7. Most Wounds Can Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some fluff! Frisk and some family hugs. Lots of hugs. Everything is warm and has their own, comforting smells to them.

 

The first thing they notice when they wake up is how amazingly warm the room is.

They are blanketed in a soft warmth from every side. The weight of it keeps them calm, nuzzling into their pillow a little. Their dreams weren't that pleasant, but they can't remember them, so they figure it doesn't matter too much. They're half-awake and warm, and everything is soft and cozy. Frankly, they don't really want to get up. The shuffling pressed against their back startles them a bit, but they relax when they realize who it's from.

Sans had curled up behind them and had fallen straight asleep. His arm was lazily wrapped around them, over the warm blanket. Papyrus is in front of them,  and they can tell by the deep red scarf around his neck. The two skeletons have been keeping the kid warm, so that they would feel safe and sound when they woke up. It's really working. Frisk leans into Papyrus's chest and Sans lets out a soft snore, completely dead to the world. He had fallen asleep and Toriel had tucked him in next to Frisk. Papyrus saw the two sleeping and that Frisk still wasn't sleeping that soundly, so he  laid down next to the two and wrapped his arms around the both of them. Sans hadn't been having the nicest dreams, either. Papyrus had fallen asleep after a while of looking out for the two, and Toriel had eventually come by to tuck them all in. 

Something smells really good. Toriel had been baking a lot after Frisk fell  asleep.  Cooking always managed to calm her nerves. She had made an assortment of pies, cinnamon rolls, and cookies. Because she doesn't use an oven, the cooking is a cleaner, simpler, and much faster practice. Hence why she made so many  things.  Frisk loves the smell of the baked  goods,  proud that it is a smell that they now associate with being a part of their new family.

Sans has a distinct smell to him. When Frisk met him, he smelled very harshly of grease (both mechanical and food grease), motor oil, and pine. Papyrus smelled like chopped basil and tomatoes, but also with a scent that Frisk can only possibly describe as 'warm'. Not necessarily like spice, but similar. San's  new smell was a lot different. He smells a lot more like Toriel's baked goods. He still sometimes smells like motor oil, but it is not a harsh or overwhelming scent. He smells like cinnamon and the special food that Toriel sometimes makes in the morning when she has extra time to make breakfast. She calls it Farina, but Frisk is pretty sure that is not the name of the food. It's a lot softer than oatmeal, which Frisk can't stand. The texture of oatmeal makes them lose their appetite really quick. There's something about it that always throws them off, making them not want to eat it. Toriel hasn't yet discovered this about them, which makes them pretty glad. She doesn't have any oatmeal in the house because she likes making really nice breakfasts from scratch, rather than something you can just add boiling water to. 

Papyrus smells a lot nicer, too. He still smells like Basil and Tomatoes, but sometimes he smells like an assortment of other spices and vegetables that Frisk can't place. They love it, though. Some monsters, like Toriel, Undyne, and Alphys, smell pretty much the same. Toriel always smells like sugar and baked goods of some sort.  Alphys always smells like soy sauce, ramen, green tea, and sometimes fruity sodas and Ramune.  Undyne always smells rather nice, though sometimes she can get rather sweaty from her daily workouts. When she sweats, she smells a little more like a fish, though not in an unpleasant way. She always smells like tea and fruit. Most of the time she also smells like whatever food she decided to mash up and call a meal for the day. Sometimes her and Alphys smell alike when they hang out for a while. 

Though, that's just what Frisk can pick up on a normal basis. It's not like they go up to their friends and smell them, or anything weird like that. They have a bit of a sensitive nose, as well as sensitive taste. Their hearing is also pretty good. It probably makes up for their terrible eyesight. It's why they are always constantly squinting. They never want to ask for glasses, though. Contacts, maybe. Glasses can break and bend into weird angles. They can get in the way, too. Contacts are nicer, but they would still likely just squint out of the habit of squinting. Their eyes are pretty crescent-shaped regardless, so usually it just kind of looks as if  their eyes are constantly closed, even when they aren't.

Frisk is content to lay with the skeletons for a while more, taking in their scents and enjoying the warmth around them. Being careful not to startle the skelebros, they take a moment to gently move their shirt sleeve down. They're quite surprised by what they see.

A lot of the cuts they had this morning are gone, especially the small ones. They move their bandage a little to see under it.  The biggest one has stitches on it, though they can't remember a thing about where those stitches came from. Their arm had been in a lot of pain all at once, and it had lasted only a second or two. It hurt a lot, but now Frisk can't feel a thing. They can't even really remember if the pain had been real or not. They remember a loud noise. Screaming, maybe? Maybe it came from  themselves. They can't remember. The cut doesn't ache, which makes them really glad. Sometimes it would just give them random, sharp pains when they moved it around too much. Usually it was just really sore and tender. The bruising on their arms made everything way worse, too. They used to be completely unable to lay on their left side because of the pains it would give them. Now, there is no bruising on their arm at all. It feels really soft and still tender and sensitive, but it doesn't hurt. The skin looks slightly different where the bruises had healed. A bit redder. Still, it was an absolute, major improvement from before.

Papyrus's movement startles them from their thoughts. He leans over, gently wrapping his red mittens around Frisk's arm, giving it a very gentle and reassuring pat. He doesn't say anything, though. He knows that he is really loud, and he has no intention of waking up his sleeping brother. Frisk adjusts their bandage back into place, gently, and gives Papyrus's mitten a little squeeze. He seems to smile, though Frisk would need to really look up in order to see his face. They look down at his mitten and give it a little pull, wanting a hug. He tenses up, though, seeing very careful about making sure that the mitten stays on. This confuses Frisk, who takes a moment to realize something.

Papyrus always has his hands hidden under something. He used to wear these huge, plush mittens. Then, he switched to regular mittens when he got to the surface. On very, very rare  occasions, he would wear gloves. It’s really warm inside, so it's not like he needs them. Frisk had assumed that it was a part of his battle body, but he never took them off, even when he had a completely different set of clothes on. He always has on some kind of glove, with his hands never exposed. Maybe it was a skeleton thing?

Thinking about it, Sans always seems to be hiding a hand. Frisk just figured it was because he was far too lazy to even use both of his hands for anything. No, wait, Frisk had seen Sans's hands somewhere before. He sometimes switches up which hand he is keeping in his jacket. He also is forced to use both of his hands when he rides his motorbike around. There's nothing really strange or odd about  Sans's hands. Papyrus, though, is another story entirely. Frisk can't think of a single situation in the months they have known him where they have ever seen him without a pair of gloves or mittens on.

If he is hiding something, they won't dig into it. It’s his business. He is their friend, and if he doesn't want them to know something, then it is probably for a good reason. He wouldn't hide something from them unless he really felt uncomfortable with something. If he is hiding something, it's not Frisk's business to  pry or to try and figure it out. They give his glove a gentle pat and give it a little kiss, which makes Papyrus let out a snicker. He pats their head, thankful that they aren't going to pry and that they are respecting that he isn't going to be taking off his mittens any time soon. Frisk can respect a person's privacy. It's clear that the monsters respect their own privacy, after all.

Monsters never ask Frisk if they're a girl or a boy. Monsters have never asked Frisk about puberty, and Monsters have never been mean to Frisk because they're  non-binary . Their new monster family brought up the idea of them having an old family, but didn't  pry when they saw how uncomfortable it had made Frisk. They know not to ask if Frisk ever had a mom or dad in the past. They don't ask about whether or not Frisk had Birthday parties, and they don't ask about what Frisk's old life was like. It's a respect that they share with their new family. If something is bothering them, they can tell somebody, but they do not have to say anything until they are really ready to. While that can be pretty bad, Frisk thinks that maybe... one day they might be able to bring it up. Even for a little moment. Explain a few things. Just a little. And when they explain it, they want to be able to say as much as possible using their newfound sign language abilities. That way, it will be a lot easier to explain. People can't talk clearly while they are crying, but people can still sign clearly even when they don't have the ability to speak. Maybe then, Frisk will have the courage to say something.

Toriel can be heard  shuffling around downstairs in the kitchen . Frisk can hear Sans being groggy, waking up very slowly and looking really dazed. Papyrus  sits up carefully, and gives Frisk a hug. He is able to sign the words 'I know,' with his mittens, seeing as he doesn't need any fingers to make those signs. He knows that Frisk needs time, and he is eager to give it to them. He gives Frisk a very gentle pat on the arm, and sits up to stretch out his spine. Frisk stretches out a bit as well, before waving and heading downstairs to go and greet their mother. 

Toriel looks so relieved to see Frisk, safe and sound, in their pajamas. Toriel smiles and gestures over to the assortment of baked goods that are all over the kitchen. Frisk pats their stomach in an almost cartoonish matter, to show that they are pretty hungry. Toriel lets out a sweet laugh at that, going into the cabinets to take out a bowl and a plate. Frisk deserves some pie, cookies, and icecream for what they had to deal with earlier today. It's only fair. The kid has gone through a lot. Frisk grins and gives their new mom a hug, before taking the bowl and plate and going over to choose what they were going to eat. The skeletons make their way downstairs, eager to join them.

Frisk grins at the idea of just a fun night eating with their family.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! A mostly fluffy chapter. Merry Christmas, you goddamn sinners. Enjoy the icecream too.


	8. A Chapter About Sans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans has a bone to pick with himself. He's falling asleep even when he doesn't want to, and sometimes, things can get pretty scary. However, he's proud of his family and how far they've come. Maybe he just needs to remind himself of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really important. I went back and I proofread chapters 1, 4, and 6. I added a few small things to chapter 1, and I completely changed a part of chapter 6. I would at least reread chapter 6, because there were some things I wrote that didn't make sense, so I fixed it up.   
> \---  
> A Chapter About Sans, you repeat to yourself. Finally! In this fic, we finally get a little more insight into the punny skeleton of your dreams. You get to fawn over this lovely skeleton and his many jokes. But wait, you think to yourself, stopping to take a breadstick from your purse to idly chew on. This is a sad fanfic. Ze wouldn't dare do this to us, you think to yourself. Ze wouldn't dare tease zir readers with a cute chapter, only to put a really upsetting chapter about Sans right afterwords. 
> 
> But ze did. 
> 
> A sad look into Sans's life awaits you.

There is a point where giving up is the only option. Why would he keep on going, knowing that it wouldn't get him anywhere to give his all? Reset. No reset. Save. No saves. Load. No Loads. It all doesn't matter. The timeline will keep on jumping back and forth, and nothing he does will really ever matter. An insect in a spider's web will stop struggling after it realizes it can't get free. Why exert the energy if at the end of the day, that energy will be an insignificant detail in a timeline that will be overlooked regardless of whether or not it succeeds? Whether or not he puts effort into his job won't do anything. Whether or not he gets promoted won't do anything. When somebody works hard, it becomes their default. Then, when they are promoted, they are expected to work even harder, when they have already been giving it all their best effort. You can't put your best food forward if that is the foot you've been hopping on the whole time. And so, he gave up a long time ago. 

 

He's always so tired. He can't tell if it's because of the resets taking a toll on him, or if it's just himself. Is it his body? Is it is mind? Is it both? Is it something else? He doesn't know, and he's so tired that he doesn't even really want to know. He's lazy, according to everybody else. He wants to sleep all day and he's tired when he's awake. He doesn't have much of an interest in anything, and he loves taking his breaks. Of course, he doesn't have the energy to tell anybody that they might be wrong about him. 

 

He's not just tired. He's downright exhausted. Sometimes, there's a reason. He did some work that day. He worried about his brother and the human, and he got stressed. He wrote some new jokes. Sometimes, he can't think of anything. Sometimes he sleeps all day and even though he can't think of a single thing he did to wear himself out, he finds himself falling asleep in any random place he happens to be. At his sentry station. On the floor. On the sofa. In the snow, in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes he can't wake up for a long time, and somebody needs to take him home, because he just won't budge.  

 

He can't stop time while he is sleeping. Sure, sometimes he uses his magic while he is asleep, but that is pretty rare for him. A few times, he tried to stop time just before he found himself falling asleep, but he always woke up later and some definite time had passed. He can only really tell if he froze time if a small amount of time had passed, but his health had gone up. After all, regardless of the time that passed, health will go up the longer a person sleeps, healing their health even above their maximum HP limit. In terms of health, he is pretty loaded. Pun sorta intended. 

 

His brother always looks out for him. It’s pretty amazing how much Papyrus can be on top of things. He remembers how little an issue this was when he had been raising Papyrus. Only how has the sleeping issue really started getting worse. Moving to the surface didn't help. 

 

Before the barrier broke, there were a few times where he would get these strange 'attacks'. They weren't seizures or anything, but they were definitely scary. Sometimes, he doesn't really fall asleep mentally, but he falls asleep physically. He loses all control over his body. He doesn't really spasm or shake, but he can't move. Everything happens really fast for him. He can hardly move his arms or legs, and it feels like he is going to sleep, but he never really quite gets there. Sometimes, when he gets like this, he gets some pretty weird hallucinations. Papyrus tells him that sometimes he makes noises. He can't really tell. There have been a few times where he's called out, but his voice always came out soft and strange. Slurred and exhausted, with the syllables mixed up in strange ways. He can still hear the people around him, and make out what they're saying. Sometimes his vision is a bit blurry, but for the most part, he can see and hear what is going on. He just can't really speak clearly. Sometimes he can move a bit, but sometimes he can't move whatsoever. It makes his soul pound in his chest cavity, making strangled breathing sounds while he panics and fails to move his own body.  

 

For the most part, those kinds of attacks are very rare for him. They can be random, but they mostly happen when he feels really intense emotions, or when he feels really stressed. After the incident with Frisk, he had passed out alongside them on the bed. That wasn't intentional at all, but it turned out okay. At least this time he had fallen asleep on a bed. He woke up after Papyrus and Frisk, so he can't be sure how long he was out. His head feels pretty light and his limbs don't really want to move the way he wants them to, so Papyrus gently eases him up. He can tell from Sans's expression that he is struggling a little. He would encourage Sans to rest, but he just did, and he surely is going to do so later. It's best if he can encourage Sans to wake up now, and see if he can manage to wake up from this daze. It takes a while, sometimes. Papyrus puts a hand- well, mitten- on his older brother's lower back and gently pushes him up, grabbing his arms lightly so that the skeleton can lean forwards instead of leaning back. He looks pretty exhausted.  

 

Using his magic probably made his condition a lot worse, Papyrus realizes. He doesn't know exactly what Sans did, but he isn't stupid. He knows that Frisk was probably badly hurt, and that Sans had used his magic to heal up the human child as much as he could. If he used up a lot of his magic, then he shouldn't be doing anything too difficult for a while. He doesn't need to overexert himself. He really deserves a break.  

 

Sans, of course, continues trying to hide everything from Papyrus. He isn't aware that Papyrus knows about Frisk's injuries. Sans uses some very strong magic spells, and he isn't sure if he wants Papyrus to involve himself with the kind of magic he has been using. Papyrus is very clever and is already using his blue magic in ways that even Sans can't do, like moving bones up and down while attacking linearly. Sans can only move his bones left to right while doing that, or moving the screen while keeping his bones from moving at all. Papyrus has his very own attack patterns, and Sans doesn't want him to stop developing his own abilities to try and copy what he thinks is stronger. While that seems a bit out of character, he is the older brother here and he has a right to be a bit paranoid about everything. He's paranoid about every possible outcome of every situation -- especially if it might lead to a load or a reset.  

 

Papyrus takes a while to coax Sans out of bed. The older skeleton is groggy, but thankful for the help. He really wouldn't know what to do if he didn't have Papyrus around. His little brother means the world to him. He will spend the rest of his life probably bragging about how cool Papyrus is to just about everybody he meets, and he would never regret it. 

 

Sans gets up on his feet and moves to take a step forwards. He immediately regrets it though, falling forwards and feeling a sudden wave of dizziness hitting him and making him close his eyes. Papyrus catches him quickly, startled and really worried. Sans releases a groan, opening his eyes halfway reaching up weakly to go and hold his head. Papyrus is worried out of his mind right now, but Sans doesn't notice. Everything is fuzzy and numb. Papyrus is now a blurry shape in Sans's vision when he looks up. He looks straight ahead from there, which is a motion that makes him feel nauseous. He's looking at the door now, trying to figure out what direction he's staring in. Suddenly he can't tell if he's sitting upright or if he's lying on the floor. Papyrus scoops him up, surprisingly strong for a skeleton so light in weight.  

 

"SANS. IT IS VERY CLEAR TO ME AT THIS MOMENT THAT YOU PROBABLY SHOULD NOT BE WALKING," Papyrus starts, speaking in his full volume out of habit more than anything else. Sans doesn't mind. His vision and hearing are kind of muffled, which isn't very common for him, so the loud voice sounds a lot clearer than a quieter voice. Sans closes his eyes, feeling a dull trobb starting up in his head. Papyrus removes his glove and places his... hand on Sans's head. Papyrus's raw magic helps with the pain, and Sans relaxes a bit, instead of moving around and trying to get up. Papyrus is right, he shouldn't be moving around so much right now. It's doing the opposite of helping. He focused a lot of his magic into getting out the infection. Healing magic is a lot more delicate and precise, and requires a lot of focus and concentration so that the individual being healed doesn't get hurt in the process.  

 

While Toriel is used to it due to her previous children, as well as the precise fire magic used in cooking, Sans hasn't used much healing magic since Papyrus was little. Even then, it was a broken bone or two, some bone bruising, and simple things because they don't have any real internal organs. Some monsters have internal organs made of magic, which is why they can eat, drink, and process food. For those monsters, it's natural, like their physical shells, and they don't need to waste any magic because those magic 'organs' will be around until they turn into dust. Other monsters, like Papyrus and Sans, are different. Unless Papyrus or Sans fabricate some temporary organs and use some of their magic up for it, they can't eat or drink, because the food and liquids will just fall down into their clothes and get everywhere.  

 

Though, to be fair, Sans doesn't mind making some temporary organs for a while. It's how he focuses his magic for his attacks. He doesn't need to move around or jump up and down to make some fake organs. Also, it helps with using his magic as an extension of his body. That's how he can work the Gaster Blasters so well when he needs them- he controls them by surrounding them with his magic and connecting them to his own body. In that essence, they become a weak point. However, they live for a temporary amount of time and he can reabsorb their magic. They're also very fast and their attack radius is so large that it's very difficult to even think about attacking them before they disappear completely. Papyrus doesn't really care much for fake organs or anything. He knows they exist, but he doesn't really care much about eating or drinking. Sometimes he drinks tea with Undyne, but it just kind of just gets his clothes wet from the inside out. It makes him smell like tea and sugar, which actually isn't that bad. Undyne doesn't really make him tea anymore, though. She probably realized that he didn't want to tell her that it's a pain to wash out of his battle armor.  

 

Thinking about Undyne and Papyrus allows for Sans to relax some more, though he didn't realize it. He's really glad that everybody is together, above the surface. Everybody always has somebody else to talk to about any given topic. He's really glad that Toriel has found friends while working as a teacher, Papyrus talks to Undyne and Asgore, Undyne and Alphys are always together, and Frisk and Monster Kid are best buds. Everybody is united in ways that they never were before. Sans just doesn't want to lose that. He already lost so much, in other timelines, though he can't remember it. 

 

When Sans opens his eyes, he realizes he's on the sofa. Papyrus has both of his gloves on, and he's returning with a plate of icecream, pie, and cookies. He puts the plate next to Sans as the shorter skeleton. Sans looks around, and stares at the clock. How long was he out for? He was in his room a second ago. Papyrus sits next to Sans as he sits up, nowhere near as groggy as he was before. _Thank Asgore_ , it couldn't have been that long. He can see Frisk eagerly eating their icecream and grinning over at Toriel. His soul warms at the sight. Frisk is okay. They're doing just fine. They aren't screaming, or hurt, or anything bad. They're smiling and eating more junk food than any parent should probably allow, but they are downright ecstatic about it and that is what really matters. 

 

"WOW, SANS. IT'S BEEN AN ENITRE EIGHT MINUTES. THAT'S ONE OF THE SHORTEST NAPS I HAVE SEEN YOU TAKE IN A WHILE," Papyrus states, beaming. He seems proud about that. He seems proud about everything, honestly. Sans gives him a soft grin and sits up, glad that the blurriness went away. He fabricates himself a stomach and a tongue so he can eat all the deserts he wants. He wants a break too. Frisk and him both deserve it right now.  

 

"I guess you could say I was downright _bone tired_ ," Sans replies, his voice smooth and deep. Papyrus's eyes do the thing where they look like they're bulging right out of his skull, and Frisk laughs loudly from across the room while Toriel snickers.  

 

"Aw, don't give me that face, Pap. _I can see right through you_ ," Sans adds, with a chuckle to his voice.  

 

Toriel is eager to jump in, much to Papyrus's dismay. "What's wrong, Papyrus, did something tickle your _funny bone_?" 

 

Sans is eager to joke around with her. "Maybe he wants to tell us to stop, but _he just doesn't have the guts_." 

 

"Careful, Sans. Too many puns and _he'll have a bone to pick with you_." 

 

"Yeah, Tori, he'll think I'm a real _bonehead._ " 

 

"Well, Sans, isn't it impossible to get _under his skin_?" 

 

Papyrus stops them, simply stating "This is the new worst day of my life," to which Frisk laughed so hard that they cried. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make this chapter way sadder, but I decided I really shouldn't, so I ended it with fluff.
> 
> I'm gonna put this announcement down here too: This is really important. I went back and I proofread chapters 1, 4, and 6. I added a few small things to chapter 1, and I completely changed a part of chapter 6. I would at least reread chapter 6, because there were some things I wrote that didn't make sense, so I fixed it up. Hopefully the fic will read a lot better now! Sorry for some of the confusing stuff. I hope you enjoyed my terrible puns.


	9. Looks like we're snowwed in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow days are quite fun! Are they not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter took me literally forever. This chapter is a pretty long one, so I hope it was worth the wait!! This is a fun chapter about Frisk. First off, I would like to remind you of the trigger warnings. This chapter is heavy on the abandonment and history of abuse because it begins with another flashback, so if that kind of thing bothers you, please stay cautious! Now that that is out of the way, please enjoy the chapter, and thank you for reading!

Frisk has been waiting a long time. The bus doesn't stop here anymore- it stopped service about 8 months ago. They can't use it to get back this time. 

 

Their shoes are too small on them now. They don't get shoes very often. These ones already have holes in them, and the bottoms of them are falling off. The last time their shoes did that, they put gorilla glue all over them do that they would hold together in the front. Now they're falling apart in the back. They wonder when they're going to get new ones, when they finally find their way home. Maybe if they're lucky, their mom might do something about it. Actually, maybe if they're lucky, they won't talk to her much. 

 

They can't rely on a bus. A passerby once told them that there was a hiking trail here for people that love mountain climbing, but it had been shut down because of the missing kids. This place was a landmark, really. It was known that kids used to come to this mountain to try and kill themselves. Frisk isn't going to lie and say that they've never thought about it before, but they had always thought of it in a metaphorical sense. Like talking about a bad disease. Frisk has always treated it as if it were something that happened to other people and not them. Suicide was something that happened sometimes to celebrities, but also to people that lost everything. To people with no way home. And it only started occurring to them now that, despite what they used to think, they are starting to fit into some of those categories. 

 

They aren't stupid. They know that their mom doesn't want them around.  

 

That doesn't stop them from blaming themselves, though. Their mom didn't want them around for a number of reasons. Sometimes they forgot to do the chores. Sometimes they're clumsy, and they break things. Sometimes they don't work hard enough. People aren't rewarded for what they are expected to do. They are rewarded for doing things that nobody else can do. Frisk can't do anything, so they shouldn't ever expect a reward for their nonexistent accomplishments. Not having any accomplishments is something worth a punishment, and their punishment was being abandoned. Nobody wants to have a useless kid. 

 

They're very different. People are always asking them if they are a boy, or if they are a girl. They aren't completely sure what to say. Sometimes they say they're a  **!** **̶** **̧@̨͘#͟͞$̨̧** but sometimes they would say they're a   **̴̥̩̤̼̮ͨ̆̽ͬ̕** **!̨͝͏@̷͡#̕$̶̕͜͡** **̹̼̜̲̥̯͎,**   because people would get upset no matter what their answer was. After a while, they just started saying that they weren't sure. This made people even angrier, somehow. Nobody was sure how to treat them, or what to call them. This usually made teachers and other parents really upset. It's really hard to explain how they feel, not that they talk very much to ask any questions. They don't really feel like a boy or a girl. They don't know why they have to be. What is wrong with feeling like neither? The only thing wrong about it is that it makes them different. And being different makes them stand out. Being different is bad. Nobody wants to keep a kid around that's _different._  

 

So really, they know it's their own fault for being thrown away like that. For being disposable. It's because they didn't do anything noteworthy enough not to be disposable. They're just a piece of garbage, being thrown away like the trash it is. To come back would mean bringing garbage back into the house. After a while of sitting around, it will eventually be thrown away again. Frisk realizes that. Garbage that keeps coming back will eventually be thrown out farther away until it can't come back anymore. That's why they shouldn't go back home this time. They can't blame somebody who is just trying to tidy up their home by getting rid of the trash. 

 

There's no point to living, but there isn't any point to dying, either. Dying is an inconvenience. Somebody will need to clean up the body. Somebody will have to look for the body. But by the mountains, nobody will be looking for anything. Nobody will be cleaning up anything, because nothing is expected to be there. There is nobody waiting for them on the other side. They can go to the mountains and disappear. Nobody will look for them, so nobody will find them. Nobody is going to look for garbage. Garbage is meant to be thrown away, Nobody goes to the dump to try and fish something useless out that they've already thrown away. Frisk isn't going to suddenly go up in value. They aren't something worth keeping. 

 

And so, they just start walking. Up. There's no real left or right, they just keep on going. After a while, they start running. They aren't exactly sure why. They don't know where they're running to, and there is nothing that they're running from. But they have to. They're running and laughing because sure they might have been thrown away, but now they're free- and they're afraid of being free, and they don't know what to do with themselves now that they're out in the air with nothing holding them back. 

\--- 

It's cold. 

 

It's cold and it's starting to snow, and the snow is soaking through their sweater when it melts and they don't know what to do besides run through the snow and hide under the trees. They make a game of it. Running under each little patch of shelter beneath a tree and trying to get covered the least in snow. They don't have anybody to play with, but they never did before, so it doesn't matter. They're having some fun, but every little noise from the dark of the woods reminds them that they need to be careful. 

 They don't have a bedtime anymore. They don't have to be home or go to school anymore. They don't need to come home to that trembling, angry voice and those dead eyes. The snow is beautiful. The ground is soft. The birds aren't singing, they're all tucked away, but their songs will be beautiful when they come out again. The lightning is gorgeous. It strikes hard in the sky, making beautiful lights that intrigue and astonish. Frisk had never seen lightning in the middle of a snowy day before. It's really pretty. The winds are strong, though.  

 

After a while, the snow gets really hard and Frisk can't walk much without melting snow getting into their shoes. They're a little hungry, but they saved an apple from school, and they're used to not eating much, so it's okay. They find a cave. It's really dark and really big, but it fills them with determination. It's a mystery waiting to be explored, and it's shelter from the the wind and the cold. It's perfect. It's getting dark out, and the shadows seem to be creeping towards them, but their fear has been replaced by a dull numbness. They don't really feel afraid. This all feels surreal, as if it really isn't even happening to them. It's like they are watching everything from first person in a video game, as if the fear isn't their own. It’s all numb. 

 

They enter the cave and look with wonder at the strange spikes that hang from the ceiling, as well as the ones that hang from the floor. They're really interesting, and Frisk can't help but stare at them. There's a dark pit in the back of the cave, with vines and all kinds of weird things growing out of it. There are little holes in the ceiling of the cave that lets in the light, as well as some of the snow, and Frisk  leans in to get a better look. They had ripped a branch from a tree while they were playing, and the long stick could prove useful to them now. Frisk can feel their heart beating hard in their chest as they look down into the large pit. They lean forwards, trying to look in, but it's dark, and it seems almost endless.  

 

It's all that they need, right now. The final step for this piece of garbage to truly get away. The world will be a happier place with them gone. Nobody will have to take care of them. Nobody will have to spend any money on them. Nobody will have to pick them up from the police station, and nobody will need to look after their things. Nobody will have to give them a bed. Nobody will have to give them anything, or do anything for them that they didn't want to do. They weren't anybody special. They look down at the blackness, the numbness in their head blocking out anything. They close their eyes, and they lean forwards. 

 

They have the stick in their hands,  

                                                            holding it tightly to their chest,  

                                                                                                                   and 

                                                                                                                           they  

                                                                                                                                   let 

                                                                                                                                        themselves 

                                                                                                                                                              fall. 

\--- 

Frisk wakes up with a scream. It's amazing, really. This tiny little person, who doesn't ever say more than a few words at a time, screaming so loudly. It's a piercing scream that rattles eardrums and leaves them ringing, even if those that listen don't have ears. It rattles through Sans's bones, and it makes Toriel sit up straight from where she was reading, by the fireplace. It's a bit of a routine, sometimes. The scream. The silence. They know if the dream was really bad if they can hear sobbing right away, or if the scream tapers off into whimpers. Depending on what they can hear tells them how bad the dream was. They have a little mental scale for it. If it's over a three, there is a scream. A 4 is a scream, and then crying. 5 is sobbing. 6 Is trembling, where Frisk doesn't want to be touched, but they are okay with being spoken to. A 7 is where they need to be as quiet and gentle as possible, giving Frisk their space to calm down and waiting for Frisk to calm down enough to comfort. An 8 is when Frisk lashes out or hides underneath the bed. 

 

 9 is something that Sans and Toriel would rather not think about, and has only ever happened once. Frisk had a nightmare that they were being attacked, and didn't really wake up all the way. They were lashing out and swinging around wildly, and that included hitting the wall really hard and thrashing around. The screaming kept going, and Frisk wasn't really completely awake, so Toriel and Sans couldn't do much of anything to help the kid. Sans had to pin Frisk down, not wanting to use his powers in front of Toriel, who was a bit shocked and frozen in place. She rushed over to Frisk's side and had gently talked to them until their flailing and screaming died down into quiet sobbing. They had spent a while that day just holding Frisk and telling them that they all loved them. Frisk clung to Toriel's side a lot that day, and Sans can't say that he blames them. Frisk never told them what the dream was about, and Sans and Toriel had been afraid to ask, because they weren't going to ask questions they weren't prepared to handle the answers for.  

 

10 hasn't happened yet. A 10 would be anything  that Frisk would need medical treatment for. It's something that Sans and Toriel hope will never happen. They've taken measures to prevent it, though. Dreamcatchers and Melatonin Pills. The Dreamcatchers helped, somewhat. The Melatonin Pills helped with Frisk's sleeping problems. Frisk would stay up late being anxious, unable to fall asleep at all some nights. The pills helped them go to sleep, and also stopped them from waking up a million times in the middle of the night. Sans can't count the amount of times Frisk got up and started pacing throughout their home, walking around until they tire themselves out enough to go back to sleep and repeating the process over until they have to go to school or do something. Sometimes when he wakes up in the middle of the night, he can hear them stopping their walk whenever he makes a noise. When he becomes quiet, they creep over to their room, being very careful not to draw any attention to themselves.  

 

This night seemed to be about a three or a four. Toriel froze before going up the stairs to go check on Frisk by herself. Sans has been feeling pretty groggy, so it's understandable that he doesn't want to go up the stairs right now.  

\--- 

Toriel wanders up to Frisk's room, opening the door very slowly. They don't knock when Frisk has nightmares. The knocking sometimes startles them, and it can make the situation a little worse. Frisk flinches a little at the movement, but seems to be pretty okay. They know that they just had a bad dream, and they're completely awake. They're breathing pretty harshly, but they aren't sobbing or that upset. They look over to Toriel and hesitantly reach out their arms towards their surrogate goat mom. Toriel walks over and gently scoops them up, cradling Frisk to her chest. Frisk hugs her tightly, leaning against her and trembling a little bit. Toriel gently strokes their hair, and then Frisk makes a gasp that startles her, squeezing her shirt. 

 

"What's the matter, my child?" Toriel asks, her voice soft and gentle. 

 

"Late—I'm-," Frisk blurts, hiding their head from Toriel's hand. Toriel looks over at the clock, trying to understand. It's 8:10am, and Frisk's school starts around 7:35. Frisk seems to be horrified by the thought, moving to cover their head and their trembling worsening. Toriel panics herself a little, completely bewildered by this.  

 

"My child, I am not mad at you in the slightest. Have you not noticed the snow out the window?" Toriel starts, keeping her voice soft. "It is a snow day. There are no classes today for any of the students. That is why I did not disturb your sleep by waking you so early," she said, gently leaning her hand in to stroke Frisk's hair again. Frisk visibly flinches, but they ease us pretty quickly and lean their head against Toriel's soft hand. Paw? Pawhand. Toriel is worried by the flinching and the protectiveness, but she hopes that Frisk will grow out of it when they realize that nothing is going to hurt them. Nobody will ever lay their hands on Frisk like that again, or they will no longer have hands.  

 

Toriel relaxes when Frisk moves their hands away from their face. They seem to have calmed down now, rationalizing that nothing bad is going to happen. They're safe right now. Frisk then looks outside for a moment, and everything seems to click. They look at Toriel with a wide grin, seeming really excited. They look as if they want to say something, but they can't find the words. Toriel simply smile, before replying to their silence. 

 

"Yes, my child, you can play in the snow as long as you like," Toriel states. Frisk grins wide at that, excited about getting a chance to play with their friends and family out in the snow. Surely all the monsters from Snowdin would be glad for the snow, and everybody would be out and about. Undyne will probably be hanging out, too. She loves the cold. Alphys, on the other hand, would probably stay inside her house where it is nice and warm. They wonder if they should send them all a message, asking them if they are busy today. They would love to get a chance to see their monster family today. 

 

Toriel carries Frisk down the stairs, and Sans relaxes when he sees the kid being all cheery. It’s amazing how fast Frisk can recover from their smaller-scale nightmares. It's like they never even happened. The kid doesn't really carry around all the bad things in their life. At least, not out in the open. Sans like to think that it's one of Frisk's gifts, really. To forget. They don't hold onto any of the bad things that have happened to them. Well, they do, but they don't act out on it. They're not a violent person. They don't want to hurt people. They aren't a cruel person with bad intentions. Frisk uses the energy they could put into being cruel and uses it to be a good person, and that is something that always amazed Sans. 

 

"Hey, kid. Alphys and Undyne said they would be coming over. Papyrus too, but he still has work today, so he is going to be coming back a while later," Sans says. Frisk sits up at the sound of this, absolutely beaming, and Sans lets out a chuckle. Toriel gently puts Frisk down on the sofa next to Sans, and he drapes a lazy arm over their shoulder. They grin and smile up at him, and he gives them a little thumbs up.  

 

Their little voice startles him out of his thoughts. Frisk must be in a kind-of good mood if they're speaking. Sans has been studying sign language whenever he has the chance, and he knows more words than even Frisk knows at this point. Papyrus is also amazingly good at it, so speaking isn't that necessary, unless- 

 

Frisk is probably trying to get Toriel to listen into their conversation too. Huh. Clever. 

 

"Sans," they start, their voice raspy and little. He'd need a stethoscope to listen to it at a normal volume. "...outside with?" Frisk asks. Sans isn't sure if they said a word before that. A lot of the kid's speaking is fragmented sentences. Their signing is a lot better and more descriptive, but it can also become quite fragmented if Frisk is feeling nervous.  

 

"Yeah. I'll go outside with you guys. Somebody needs to keep their eyes on you guys. And Undyne only has one," Sans says, jokingly putting his other hand up into the air. Frisk giggles a little at that, and it makes Sans smile a little more genuine. He really loves the kid. Frisk can lighten the mood of any situation by just being around.  

 

"In fact, I'll go outside right now. I have to go to the store to pick up some goat-ceries from the store," Sans shrugs. Sure, not the best pun, but all puns are good puns. Frisk signs their reply. 

 _'Are you going to go with Mom?'_ They ask. It's not like Sans is the one that cooks. He wouldn't really know what to buy. He makes some nice quiche, but Toriel is the one that wanted to cook for today.  

"Nah, I have _no body_ to go with," Sans replies, eyes sparkling a little at the joke. The kid walked right into that one. Frisk lets out a small laugh. Sans gets up and gives the kid a little pat on the head, and Frisk smiles up at them while Sans goes to get the keys for his motorbike. 

 

\--- 

 

Undyne is the first to arrive at the little impromptu party. She enters by giving Frisk a little friendship suplex, which horrifies the Queen, but makes Frisk laugh wildly. Undyne also plays a game where she tosses Frisk up into the air, which nearly resulted in Frisk being thrown through the ceiling. Toriel is the one that said "that's enough," and her words made Undyne stop in a fraction of a second, gently putting Frisk back down on the floor. She wouldn't dare disobey orders from the queen. Toriel is very soft and cuddly, but she is the queen for a reason. She be as strong or stronger than Asgore, even. 

 

Toriel had been cooking with the supplies she already had in the house. Sans had been gone for only 20 minutes at that point.  Toriel is pretty good with improvising her cooking, but she only has the materials for monster food in the house. Frisk is free to eat both monster and human food. However, monsters don't gain anything at all from eating human food. Monsters are made from dust, and their food regenerates their souls.  Monster food feeds the soul, and not the body. Meanwhile, human food feeds the body, and only heals the soul if it is made from the heart. Monsters can eat human food, but it would do absolutely nothing for them, as it would not heal any HP unless it is made by somebody that puts some of their essence into the food without knowing.  

 

The monsters at this little party would be able to eat fine, but there would be no food for Frisk until Sans comes back. Toriel has been hoping to make an actual meal for Frisk. They can eat as much of the monster food as they want, but they need some actual nutrients in their meal. Alphys came by after a while with Pocky, Ramune, and Sushi. It's real food, sure, but it's not the healthiest thing that Frisk could be eating right now. It's at the 40 minute mark since Sans left. Frisk had lost track of time, talking with Undyne and Alphys. They're working on setting up Undyne's laptop to the TV, so that they can watch some sort of new Anime. Toriel goes over to her phone to call Sans, but he doesn't answer. Worried, she tries to think out a strategy of what to do, when Undyne comes into the kitchen to make some tea. 

 

"Hello, Undyne," Toriel greets, sounding quite preoccupied.  

 

"Don't mind me, your majesty. I'm trying to get some tea for me 'n the kid," Undyne starts, looking around the cabinets to try and remember where Frisk keeps the tea. Tea is a happy medium between Monster Food and Human Food. Just leaves with water in it. Undyne doesn't like putting any sugar in hers, but Frisk loves their tea with both milk and sugar in it.  

 

"Undyne, would you mind doing me a favor?" Toriel asks, getting an idea. Undyne stops what she's doing pretty quickly, nodding. She then realizes that she shouldn't be nonchalantly nodding to a queen, she should be giving her an actual response. 

 

"I mean, yeah," she corrects herself, standing up straight.  

 

"No need to be so formal," Toriel starts, before continuing. "Sans went out to get some more physical food for Frisk, but he hasn't come back yet. Can you go check on him? The store is only an 8 minute walk away, but he wanted to take his motorbike to get there faster. He isn't one for physical activity, after all," Toriel requests. She would go herself, but she is baking, and she is using her fire magic instead of using a stove.  

 

"Yeah, I'll go! Maybe he got lost. That's what he gets for being lazy," Undyne jokes, trying to make light of the situation. She's been here for a while and Sans left before she arrived, so that definitely isn't a good sign. "Maybe his bike just got stuck in the snow and he's trying to fix it up. It's snowing pretty hard," she adds.  

 

Toriel is comforted a little by the thought. Maybe he's fine. If his bike did get stuck, he would prefer trying to fix it over walking. Maybe it's just taking a while. Maybe he's walking back, but it's just hard to walk in the snow. At least Undyne likes the cold, compared to Alphys, who hates it. "Thank you, Undyne," Toriel replies, her voice soft and warm. Undyne gives her her usual big grin. 

 

\--- 

 

Undyne's been walking for a while. She adjusts her coat around her, wiggling her ear fins a bit. The piercings on them make little jingling noises when she moves them. She likes to think that it makes her look deadlier, though the cold metal on her ears isn't the most pleasant thing in the world. She pulls her hood over her head some more, getting a little sick of having to adjust it all of the time. She hates really hot weather, but that doesn't mean that she absolutely loves the snow. Snow is something familiar. That's all. 

 

The roads are covered in a layer of snow on top of more layers of snow. Nobody has plowed this street just yet, but there is a stack of snow to the side that is raised more than everything else. Looking over to it, she can see what looks like some kind of motorbike hanging out of it. 

 

Hey, it's Sans's motorbike? It looks like the skeleton really did get it stuck in the snow. But, it looks kind of dented. Undyne leans in and brushes the snow off of it, grabbing the wheels and practically suplexing it out of the snow and neatly onto the ground beside her. She's glad that the bike is pretty sturdy, or her rough hands could have easily dented into it. Under the bike is a pretty obvious trail. It looks like Sans lost control of it, somehow. However, Sans isn't anywhere obvious in sight. Undyne follows the trail through the snow until she finds a raised mound of snow a little distance ahead of where she found the bike. She starts digging into the pile of snow in front of her until she sees something smooth and white. And then, she hears a groan. 

 

Undyne's heartbeat climbs into her throat, and she digs out the snow and uncovers the small figure of Sans, barely conscious. He looks pretty dazed and unresponsive. Sure, Skeletons can't be hurt the cold of the snow as they don't have any skin, but that doesn't mean they are unaware of it. Sans doesn't look like he's in good shape. Undyne clears out more of the snow, but her hands smack into something that makes her blood run cold. 

 

_It's his leg, broken off._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two months of waiting and all you get is a cliffhanger. Aren't broken bones the worst? Also, no worries, Sans isn't going to lose his leg. He lost his motor control- no pun intended- and crashed his bike. He couldn't get up because the situation put him under a lot of stress, triggering his narcolepsy more and making in drowsy and lethargic. He couldn't move very well and kind of just let himself black out. Undyne is absolutely horrified, but they'll both be okay. Toriel is going to have a stroke when she finds out.
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you for the comments! Holy heck. They really keep me going. 47 Bookmarks?? That's like, a classroom and a half, waiting to read the next chapter. I hope I don't disappoint. I still don't have a beta reader, so sorry for the typos. Friendly reminder that my frisk askblog, askmercifulfrisk.tumblr.com , updates along with the fic. Any questions? Ask Frisk yourself!


	10. Out of Chara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter about Chara's death, so it has quite a bit of triggers in it. Be careful if you are sensitive to suicidal behavior, self-harm, character death, and depressive thinking. I wrote most of this chapter 6 months ago, so I apologize if the ending seems a bit weird. I didn't give up on this fic at all. I just needed to take a break.

They were by themselves when they first started. Asriel had been off, playing somewhere by himself. Probably trying to figure out how to see the footage on the movie camera. Dad had been making tea and talking with Toriel over some books, being disgustingly affectionate to each other. Chara would pretend to be grossed out by it, but really, it was almost nice to have two parents that actually cared for each other like that. It was almost like having a real family.

There they sat, their lap filled with flowers they know they shouldn't be around. Buttercups. They had plucked as many as their scarred hands could hold, but they were also careful not to make it obvious that they had taken them. They had plucked them from random parts of the garden, careful to grab them from the back where nobody would notice a few empty stems. They had plenty of them, their hands trembling at the idea of what will happen next.

It was almost suffocating. The scent of them was all over. Chara could practically feel the pollen in their throat. Well, if they weren't now, they surely would be in a moment. They have enough time to turn back in they wanted to. Put the flowers down. Enough time to throw them away. But then, they think of all the people that wanted to hurt them, and they feel the bitterness rising in their chest all over again. People get close to other people. Then they tear them down, bit by bit, until there's nothing left. Things are amazing the way they are now. If Chara could die now with a family, instead of dying later all alone, shouldn't they do it? They were sure to be abandoned at some point in time. It's happened before. Doesn't history always repeat itself?

In goes the first one. It's bitter and makes them cough. It's not disgusting enough to gag on, but it’s gross alright. It's something that their body can recognize as something that shouldn't be in their mouth. They manage to swallow down the flower, awkwardly. The flower makes their mouth feel a little numb in a bad way. Well, there is no 'good way' for a mouth to be numb, but that is besides the point.

The second one is just as bad. Chara forces in the flower and swallows it, nearly choking on it. It leaves their throat feeling tingly after the 5th one. Then it’s the 6th, and the 7th, and the 8th.

At 15, they can't feel their mouth. They can feel saliva pooling down their face from their mouth, their cheeks swollen. It feels like they've been swallowing rocks. Their throat hurts, and their mouth is starting to taste rusty, as if parts of the inside of their mouth have burned off in some strange way. They feel like they're going to throw up any second now, but they force themselves to hold it down. A bit of vomit chokes its way up their throat, but they swallow it back down. It feels like they have swallowed battery acid.

When they try to get up after the 18th, it's like the room is spinning. Their body has been struggling with the flowers. They hide the rest of the flowers in their sleeves, to eat later if they can find the strength to keep up with it. The room is bright and the garden's colors hurt their eyes and they realize that tears and drool can't stop running down their face. Drool is running down their neck, mixed in with bits of pink and red. There's just drool everywhere, and they're swallowing it, but their neck feels tight and it's getting hard to breathe.

"Mom," they choke, the feeling of drowning being the only thing they can think about. "Mom," they repeat, still in a whisper. They're not focused on the plan anymore. This was a bad idea. They're trembling more than they ever have before, and they can't stop. They lower their head as their shoulders rattle.

"Mom!!!!" They scream, their throat burning. It feels like walls are closing in on them, but it's the garden, and there is nothing but empty space everywhere. Nobody seems to hear them. They had run off to a remote part of the garden after all. They start screaming, crying and hoping somebody would grab their mess of a body and take them back inside. They can't think about the plan at all right now. They can't feel their throat, and their mouth is bleeding, it seems. Everything hurts.

They cry as loud as their little lungs will allow, but nobody came.

\---  
It's blurry when they wake. There is a lot of noise everywhere. Screaming, maybe? Is it their own? Their throat hurts a lot and they can't feel their mouth. Everything feels wet and warm. It feels like their skin is sticking to itself. Their mouth tastes like pollen and rust, and it makes them gag harshly. The noises are still around everywhere, but they seem to have died down. They all sound distant, almost as if this is happening to somebody else. Their body feels really heavy. They almost wish that they had eaten more of the flowers, so that they wouldn't have had to wake up to this unbearable pain.

They try to call out, but they can only produce noises that sound like choking. Something is touching their face, but it stings really badly and it makes them whine. They are being carried, perhaps. By something very soft. They can't tell what, though. Everything is really dizzy. It feels almost as if they are falling asleep, but they aren't quite there yet. Their eyelids are too heavy to open, and their body feels like lead. They feel groggy and sick, and everything feels both too hot and too cold all at once. They're sure they must be shaking, still. Everything fades out into nothing.  
\---  
The next time they wake up, they feel a little better. They have thrown up a few times, apparently. They can’t remember, but when they open their eyes a little, there is a used bucket by the side of the bed. There is a soft paw stroking their forehead and humming sweetly, so they close their eyes again to lean into it. It's not too big, but it's not too small. It's the soft fur of Toriel, gently checking her beloved heir's temperature. It's a sweet gesture, but it doesn't help the pain, and it can't stop the trembling.

"M---mmm---" Chara tries, their words failing as they strain their throat. Toriel moves towards them, glad they are awake, but terrified for their help.

"Don't give up, my child," Toriel says, her voice soft and gentle. It feels as if Chara is trying to hear her talk underwater.

"M---mmoommm," Chara chokes, their throat bloody and raw. Their face burns and itches all at once, but their limbs are too heavy that they can't bring themselves to scratch at their face. The sensations are all unbearable. Chara releases a violent tremble, forching their arm up a few inches to grab at Toriel's sleeve as hard as they can. Even with all their strength, their touch is as light as a feather. Their heart is beating in their chest roughly, and they can feel it in their hands and in their temples. "Mmm....m....mmmomm," they manage again, wanting her to come closer. This isn't the plan they thought of. Poisoning sounded so simple. So painless. This was just torture. This is just as bad as what they faced on the surface.

"....S....s.....s....scared... mm...nn....ss....sca..." They whimper, their hands trembling violently. Toriel leans in and they relax a bit at the feeling of her soft fur on their face. The warmth only helps a little, because of their fever. They feel a little bit safer like this, though. They try to move and pain shoots up from their stomach, worse than anything they have ever felt before. Like a raw, sharp pain, crippling them and wrapping tightly in a twisted grip around all of their internal organs. They curl up and bawl, the pain worsening with their movement. It feels as if somebody is ripping out their intestines and crushing their stomach with weights. Toriel puts her hand on Chara's stomach and arms, trying to keep them still so that they don't accidentally hurt themselves again. They're hanging onto consciousness withna bit of determination, though they are already exhausted. Toriel is counting, telling them toncount with her through the fit of pain in their stomach. Chara can't seem to remember the numbers, struggling and trying their best to take long breaths in and out. They can't stop their hyperventilating by much, but it's a start.

"Ten... Eleven... Twelve... Thirteen... Fourteen... Chara, please hold on. You are doing well- fifteen... Sixteen... Seventeen... Eighteen..." Toriel counts, stroking her child's side while the more violent of the shaking seems to ease a little bit. Chara's panicking is calmed by the constant source of Toriel's voice. It lets them know that she isn't leaving. They don't want to be alone. They don't want to be alone like this. They have never felt pain like this before.

Toriel moves a little and they let out a sharp, scared exhale. They try to force themselves up, their small hands reaching up to touch Toriel's face. She gently shooshes them and scoots a little closer, before leaning her face on the top of their head.

"I am not leaving, my child. You are going to be okay," Toriel assures, though she knows that this situation might lead to the worst. Her hand gently strokes Chara's stomach. The cramp from before is settling down, but not they just feel unbearably exhausted. Their arms slump to their sides, slipping in and out of consciousness until they stay that way.

\---

  
Frisk looks up from their spot on the sofa when their mom gets a call. They aren't all that sure of what to do. Her calm, yet worried demeanor turned into panic as she talked to Undone over the phone. Frisk, feeling horribly nervous now, goes over to where Papyrus is. He definitely has no idea in regards to what is happening, but he sees the expression of the queen change and suddenly appears beside Frisk. He scoops them up gently, distracting them. “ALPHYS, FRISK, MOVE INTO THE LIVING ROOM WHILE HER MAJESTY IS COOKING IN THE KITCHEN. IT'S GETTING STUFFY IN THERE,” Papyrus states, looking optimistic as he walks away from the queen. She seems to be distressed, so it won't help to have everybody hanging around her. He knows how Frisk and Alphys would want to help, but if they panic as well, it would worsen the situation. Mettaton seemed to understand what Papyrus was doing and went over to Toriel, staying very calm and speaking to her in a hushed tone. This isn't the stage, and Mettaton completely understands that a calm demeanor will definitely help a lot more right now.

Papyrus enthusiastically gets Alphys to talk about Mew Mew Kissie Cutie, which makes her excited about the show. In turn, it distracts Frisk, who now wants to see an episode. Papyrus leaves while the two set up the show on the TV. He excuses himself to go get something to drink, and meets up with Toriel and Mettaton in the kitchen. Toriel is crying, and Mettaton is attempting to comfort her. He looks over to Papyrus, and his look instantly becomes apologetic.

“Sans got hurt,” Mettaton states, avoiding eye contact. Papyrus becomes very still. 

 .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter. I had a plan for the next three chapters, but over the past 6 months it for deleted, so I have been trying to re-plan what happens. Originally Sans and Chara were going to interact in this chapter, but I didn't write as much as I thought I would. I posted what I had because I figured it made no sense that I wrote out most of the chapter and just never posted it? Anyhow, I'm still going to update the fic. Thank you so much for your amazing comments! They're what made me decide to keep writing. I'll update when I can.
> 
> Sincerely, your grandmapi.


End file.
